Event Horizon
by Venere Veritas
Summary: AU. The point of no return, as described in the eyes of several nobodies. The precious world they had been born unto begins to fall apart, each member actively taking part in tearing it to shreds, going at each other until all that is left for anyone to do is merely watch and wait. Warning, will contain graphic content.
1. Chapter 1

**AN- Spoilers!** Ah yeah, an AU high school fiction. Totally original and fun right? Seriously though, this story will contain graphic and potentially disturbing material. Also, much like my other works of fiction, I'll be working with a character who suffers from a "major flaw." In this case..._autism_. I will be honest: I've never written from this perspective before. If at any point someone does feel offended by my attempt at portraying AU Cora, please let me know.

Edited- 10/30

* * *

><p>-Event Horizon-<p>

An Inroduction…

"Mi pequeño, corazón delicado."

This was a memory from a long, long time ago. Back when mom was still alive and he had very little to worry about. There was no school, no people. This wasn't to say that life was perfect, because it wasn't, but it was certainly more tolerable than it was today.

He remembered it.

He sat on the floor, picking up Lego blocks, smiling eagerly at each and every color, putting another red in the pile of reds and the blues with the blue while deciding to use the white and yellow for the base of his latest creations.

A slim, long shadow hovered above him.

"Habla para mi?"

He stared at the green piece in his hand while the sound of her voice sank inside. He loved the sound of her voice more than anything else in the world, not that he really understood what it meant. Instead he froze in place, distracted by the green block that seemed so out of place in the assorted rainbow of colors.

A hand rested on his head and he shivered.

"Tell me your name, love," she asked him in a soft whisper.

He could make out the noise of his brother screaming in his room, no doubt making up some game that he wasn't invited to. The noisy boy that ran around the house, arms out, teeth bared, sunglasses threatening to fall down his face; he found the boy called his brother very interesting.

Finger's carefully trailed through his messy locks. "No, no," she said. "Don't listen to Doffy. Listen to me."

He peered upwards at the origin of the soft voice, staring up at his mother's warm smile. He blinked a few times and smiled back at her, mimicking her in hopes of earning a positive response. People smiled when they felt goo, this was something that he had learned the few years he had known. Personally he felt rather well, but for some reason everyone around him brought up the fact that he hardly smiled. He was content staring out. He would smile for her though.

"Good boy," she said. She carefully lifted her hand, only to try placing it upon his small shoulder. He backed away instinctively, not really wanting that sort of touching.

"Ok, ok," she whispered. "Can you tell me your name, sweety?"

He looked down at his Legos. He heard her sigh. "Look back at me, Rosi."

The last word certainly felt familiar. Something inside of him told him that the answer was closer than he expected. But he kept staring at the Legos, almost positive that the answer would come from the pile of blue Lego blocks.

"What about Spanish?" he heard her say. This last word was unfamiliar to him. He sucked in his lower lip as it rang in his head, making little sense to him.

"Cual es tu nombre?" He stared nervously at her. He watched her take in a deep breath, raising a finger up and pointing at him. He stared at the finger with two wide eyes. What did it all mean? "Cual es tu–"

"Mama, mama!" The source of the loud screams echoed in the hallway. He looked over and stared at a boy just a bit older than him, hurrying over to the center of the living room. He stared in absolute silence as that boy ran around the poor woman, tugging roughly at her clothes.

"Mama, juice!" the boy was jumping, and he was tugging at her clothes, all those little fingers holding on tightly to her frail form. He watched in anticipation, expecting more loud words from the boy.

"Shh, shhh. Doffy," the woman shook her head, giving the occasional, nervous glance over to the younger boy. "Don't be so loud. You'll frighten your brother."

"I want juice," the boy said, his voice lower than before. "And empanada!"

"What do we say when we want things?"

"Pleeeaaseee!"

"Alright," she said. He watched her leave, her movement quick and so graceful he couldn't help but keep his eyes glued on her. When she left the room he peered back down at his Legos, smiling.

"R-rosi," he heard a voice say. He looked over and stared at his older brother, not completely aware of this brand new situation. The boy was smiling at him. He couldn't help but avert his eyes, finding the boy's smile a little too wide, a little too much to bear. "Hey. _Hey_. Can you understand me? Do you want some juice?"

He blinked. He looked back at his toys.

"Juice? _Ju-go_?"

He looked back at the older boy, his eyes now laying on sunglasses that were just a little too big for his older brother. He liked the way they looked though. Without a given thought he reached out, trying to grab them. The boy jumped back, hands on his spectacles.

"No," the boy snapped. "Don't touch! These are mine."

The younger brother frowned. He lowered his head as it was beginning to feel just too heavy to hold. His chest hurt.

"Rosi, you're so weird." The boy knelt down, poking the younger boy on the shoulder, earning a sad whine each time. The older boy chuckled, finding this strange reaction almost amusing.

"Doffy," a stern voice could be heard inside the house. "You better not be picking on your brother."

The boy whined after giving his brother another soft poke, "Lloras todo el tiempo…"

The younger boy looked down at his toys. What was the answer? What was he supposed to do at a time like this?

The older brother spoke. "Mamá tiene razón. Usted tiene un corazón débil."

Something lit up in the younger boy's head. A familiar word, and he remembered it! She had just said this word not too long ago.

He turned and stared at his brother, raising his hand again, but this time curling each finger and leaving his index up.

His brother stared back at him. "What?" he asked.

"Koh," the boy answered. He stared at his own finger, then back at his brother. "Koh?"

"Koh? You mean _corazón_?" The boy shook his head. "That's not your finger. That's your heart."

The younger boy shook his head, waving his finger at his older brother in frustration.

"No, not your finger." He watched as the older boy grab his hand and point it towards his chest. The surprise contact would have had him shriek right away, were it not for the delicate way his brother had done it. It didn't feel as overwhelming as usual. So he looked down at his chest, at his finger, and the way it pointed towards him. It was..._him_?

It was starting to make some sense now. Why hadn't she simply explained this part of the new game to him?

"Corazón," the boy said. "_Heart_. Get it?"

He stared at his finger pointed at his chest. His brother let go of his arm and he still kept his finger pointed at his chest, letting things sink in until he was sure he had the right answer.

"Do you understand?"

He lowered his arm. All of his little fingers dug their way into the carpet as he felt something exciting take over. He knew he could do this. He just had to move his mouth the right way. He knew he could show the right answer now.

"Doffy, come into the kitchen and eat your empanada," the soft voice called.

The boy whined again. "I wanna eat it in my room," he said, getting up from the carpet and making his way into the kitchen, leaving his little brother to continue his misguided epiphany all alone.

He picked up his Lego piece with a new confidence inside of him. The pain inside his tiny body was now replaced with a nice warm feeling. He put another yellow piece on top of his already impressive wall, waiting for her to show up.

When she did he immediately looked over at her.

She smiled. "Alright," she said. "What's your name, sweety?"

He curled his lips inward. No, something was wrong. She wasn't doing it right.

He watched her eyes lower again. "Ok," she said with a soft sigh. "Oh, Rosi…_Rosi_…" She lifted a finger and pointed it at him. "Rosi," she said, lifting her head up and exposing reddened eyes.

He stared at the finger pointed at him. Now she was making sense again. It was so strange how that woman could make so little sense, but finally she was starting to get it.

The finger was pointed at _him_. He didn't understand all the things she said to him, but now he could at least give her an answer to one of these actions.

"Koh?"

Her bottom lip dropped. "What," she asked.

He stared at the finger pointed at him. "Koh…koh…wah…"

It was extremely difficult trying to build the right thing together. It required the right sounds, and he wasn't too sure how to say it, and if he moved his mouth the wrong way he knew it wouldn't work.

"Sssss," he hissed. He remembered what his older brother said. He made it look so easy.

She stared at him. He wondered what she thought of it. He looked down at his Legos, then up at the ceiling, right at the center where the light came from.

"Sweety, look at me." He felt her hand lightly touch his face.

Think. What was the right sound? What was the right thing? What had the boy said before?

"Koh-son," he said. "Koh-ha-son."

Her eyes went wide. She brought her hands to her face, slowly shaking her head. "_Corazón_?" she lightly whispered.

His eyes went wide. This time she was making the sound. The thing. The _word._ He knew he could do this, for her.

He lifted his shaking arm and, remembering what his brother had done before, pointed a finger at his body.

"Koh-ha-son!" he said. He made sure to keep the finger pointed at him. She would like that.

And she did. He watched her smile, rubbing her eyes as she gave a nod.

"Ok, ok," he heard her say. "That's just fine." She dropped down to her knees and pulled him closer to her. He really didn't like this sudden change, so of course he couldn't help but struggle just a little bit, trying to get out of this new scenario and remain in the old, but she had her arms wrapped around his tiny frame, and in the end he did feel sort of good and secure.

He thought about it. He thought about it for a long time. The finger was pointed at _him_. They all were. Did this mean the sound was just for him? The finger sometimes pointed at food and the food often was just for him. So the sound must be for him. That was his sound.

"Corazón?" he heard her say. Ok, _that is_ _his sound_. He understood it now.

He couldn't move his hands so he figured the only to respond was with another sound. Maybe that would work.

"Mmm," he murmured into her chest.

"Goody boy," she replied. "You did such a good job today…"

Her voice felt wonderful. He must have been right. Yes, this was ok. That was his new sound and he ought to respond to it all the time and she'd be happy.

He smiled and let her continue hugging him. It was beginning to feel _all right_. Maybe these sounds weren't so bad.

Moooom!" a piercing voice screamed throughout the house. "I spilled the juice!"

He covered his face and cried; scared little Corazon.

* * *

><p>Please let me know what you think. I will have no problem rewriting this story if there are some issues. If you think this is too inappropriate I will delete this story and simply start anew.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Edited 10/31

-Event Horizon-

There was something incredibly horrifying about being sent into the school's faculty office, especially if one cannot recall a good enough excuse or reason as to why he or she might have been sent there. It took Corazon about fifteen minutes before he could make out the sounds of his brother's voice in one of the smaller rooms, and then suddenly the boy began to fit the pieces together. It didn't stop him from keeping one hand firmly grasped on the seat, his legs from stretching out and taking up space, only to pull them back in once that unsettling feeling crept in, or resting his head against the wall, sliding it around in hopes of making out the murmurs going on in the office.

When he saw his brother walk out Corazon couldn't help but wonder what sort of lies might have been said. He kept holding on to the seat with one hand, not entirely sure what to make of the possible threat that he might be pulled into and forced to respond to a series of uncomfortable, personal questions he couldn't possibly answer.

Eventually he noticed that Doflamingo was sitting close to him.

Corazon sneered.

"So CPS will be visiting today," Doflamingo said, clasping his hands together in a rather loud manner that made the younger brother nervously twitch.

There was a noticeable fluttering in the boy's chest. He looked over down the busy hallways, almost too distracted by the loud noises of typing, calls and phones ringing, secretaries chatting with each other or students, students talking and chatting with each together, the flickering lights that often came along with such settings, and so on, to have noticed this pain spreading across his insides like a terrible stab wound.

"Do you understand what this means?" Doflamingo asked. Corazon was positive that his brother was staring him down, waiting for a proper answer. He looked down, his mind reeling over the many distractions, the growing pain inside of him, his lower lip dropping a bit as he tried to think up the meaning behind every single distraction.

"Father might not be picking us up today," his brother said. Corazon nervously looked over, his head lowered enough to not have to make unnecessary eye-contact contact, but high enough to see that disturbing grin, white teeth aligned together in a tight unison, clean and clear but so strange and alien that Cora felt as though he might have just never bothered.

His other hand glued itself to the chair. Corzazon held on tight, his legs pulling inward until his skinny jeans forced him to stop, otherwise they'd fall asleep on him. Doflamingo was still there, a seat away, patient as always as the younger of the two began to slowly access the situation.

"I really needed a vacation from that shithole," Doflamingo said. Corazon listened, staring out into the busy office structure, the overwhelming feeling beginning to take hold as he suddenly realized that he might not be returning home tonight. "We really need this. It's so good. A sudden change of scenery." He laughed. "Fufufu. Or maybe not. At the very least, Homing will be forced to make some changes. What do you say?"

Corazon closed his lips together, feeling a nervous smile grow on his face as the pain wrapped itself around his poor heart. He blinked a few times. How was he going to go home if…he_ couldn't_ go home? The idea of change made him ill. His music was at home. His favorite things were at home. His pet tarantula was at home. He let his painted nails dig into the cheap plastic as he tried to not let this question get to him. He was not a fan of change.

"You're getting upset," he heard Doflamingo say. Corazon looked down at the dirty carpeting. He wanted to sit on the carpet. The chair was so uncomfortable he was sure some of the pain he was feeling was because of the damn chair.

"I told you we needed a change." Corazon looked over and stared at his brother's exposed legs. He raised his gaze up and stared at the bright pattern scattered across the older boy's decorated clothing. He slowed his breath, trying to focus on a particular pattern. "Change can be anything. Even something small will make our life more bearable."

"I hope you know what I'm about to ask of you," Doflamingo said. His voice wasn't as soothing as before and it made Corazon grow all the more nervous. "I need you to act a certain way. Worse than normal. Don't write a damn thing. Don't let them think you can do it." It went from soft to noisy to sprinkles of lightening that made the younger of the two almost jump from his seat.

"…you're supposed to smile when you're feeling good." The voice was quiet.

Doffy was such a strange brother. He was loud when Corazon never wanted him to be. When he needed peace and quiet, Doffy was destructive. And he said such strange things. If smiling meant good feelings then why was it that Doffy always smiled he was at his most miserable? Corazon thought about it. He and Doffy had experienced a lot of bad things, but did that mean life had to change?

Right now, between the lights, the sounds, being called away from his final period, his favorite period, and being forced to sit on this uncomfortable chair, the people moving around the office with no meaning, the confusing pain that always hurt him that he couldn't explain, and Doffy was smiling at him.

"Just think for a second," Doflamingo said.

"…" Corazon discovered that he was once again sneering.

"Remember all the times he treated you less than normal," Doflamingo said. "The times he said you were making the wrong choices. When he said you couldn't be vegetarian, or listen to your music, or go out late at night. He treats us like children. He treats you like an infant…"

"Hey! No wearing sunglasses on campus," A secretary snapped. Corazon grit his teeth together, his hands peeling away from the bottom of the chair and finding its way on his lower face, one hand pressed firmly over his mouth, the other nervously clinging on to Doflamingo's arm.

His brother looked down at him, frowning. Corazon felt a hand gently pat the top of his head, and once he felt it leave Corazon decided he would consider his brother's proposition. His brother did prove a point. It didn't seem fair that he was still being treated as a child. He was no child. He and Doffy deserved to be treated better. And his brother said that any small change would work. Corazon would like to not be so quickly judged by his own family.

And then Doflamingo stood up. "What the fuck?" the boy loudly said to the secretary. "Can you be any louder, you dumb bitch?"

"Excuse me?" The secretary asked. Her voice was getting louder. It was a piercing, loud series of needles that somehow distracted Cora from the pain he was already feeling in his chest. He still wondered how would he get home today. He wondered, if his father didn't pick him up, what would happen to him. This would be a very strange change. He trusted Doffy though. Doffy was a liar, but he never lied to him.

"You're being loud," Doflamingo said. There was a pause. "You can't just snap at people. Do you have any idea how some people might react to that?"

Doffy was such a strange brother. He always made things worse.

* * *

><p>Robin had only been doing this job for a few months now.<p>

She parked her car in the visitor's parking and stared out of her window at the small, dingy looking high school. This would be her third case. This would be her first case all on her own. She was nervous, but remembered what Saul had said to her when she decided that would return the favor he had done for her and help those who were in need.

She walked out of the car, slamming the driver's door just a little too hard before making her way to the front office.

This was also the first time she would be dealing with a teen. All her foster life she had been the oldest, with most of her brothers and sisters being several years younger than her.

Robin opened the front door, immediately welcomed by the refreshing cool air and loud sounds of annoying ninth to twelfth graders, each and every one of them eager for their final period to end. She looked over at a long line of teens sitting uncomfortably on chairs, and they all looked quite miserable and dressed in attire that made Robin feel miserable. She wondered if she had ever looked this bad, once upon a time, when she was a girl.

"Can I help you?" Robin turned and looked over at an irritated secretary sitting at the front desk.

"I'm with Child Protective Services," Robin answered. "I'm here to survey a…Ro–"

"The Donquixote kids?" the secretary interrupted. "Uh-huh. Yeah, they said you'd be here fifteen minutes ago. You know, school's almost out. It's gonna be hard getting this done before the father arrives."

Robin frowned. "The parents have not been informed yet?"

"Until we have reason to believe it would be in their interest for them to know," the secretary muttered. She peered upwards at Robin through her glasses. "It's best you hurry and get this done."

Robin remained perfectly poised, refusing to let the woman's attitude get to her. She knew these sorts of obstacles would be in the way. She had experienced such obstacles herself and knew better.

"Where are they?"

"One is with the principle, getting a referral," she replied. "The other was sent into the office at the end of the hall. You'll want to see him first. Take your time…he's a bit slow."

Robin forced an icy smile on her face. "I will, thank you."

She made a mental note, reminding her self that the missing brother might be considered a troublemaker to some, but that she must be welcoming no matter what she might hear after being told about the referral. Lots of hurt children get slips or referrals, and most of them were wonderful.

The second one was described as _slow_. She didn't know what to make of that. She knew he was a boy, and sometimes teachers were harsh on the boys. She knew some people just weren't too bright. She knew sometimes people were introverts and didn't really know what to say, so people thought they were dumb.

When she came to the end she lightly knocked on the door. After a few seconds the door opened and she was welcomed by a beaming, perky woman dressed in soft colors, practically begging her to come inside.

"I'm very glad to see young people working for these types of situations," the student counselor said as she guided Robin into the long, nearly empty office. She took her seat, dropping her notebook and a few files on the table before she realized the other occupant in the room, sitting silently at the corner of the table, munching on a Clif bar. Like every other high schooler he was dressed to do just about everything except impress; looking like some sort of emo-hispter hybrid. The smeared makeup across his face had her wondering if he might have watched the Nolan _Batman_ movies a few too many times. For some reason, even though he was still on school campus, he was donning dark shaded sunglasses and an oversized beanie.

"This is Rosinante," the woman said cheerfully. "But he likes to be called Corazon. Won't really respond to anything else."

Robin produced a small smile. "A bit of a troublemaker, like his bother?"

"Oh, no," the woman said. "He's," she leaned in close to Robin and whispered, "sort of autistic."

Robin raised a brow. "As opposed to maybe, a quarter or semi autistic?"

Rosinante, the boy now called Corazon, carefully lifted his head a little. The tassels on his beanie dragged across his chest.

"Shh," the woman scolded. "We don't use that word at this school. We don't want to hurt his feelings now."

Robin rolled her eyes. She turned over to Ro…Corazon and smiled. She wasn't expecting a reaction from the teen, and wasn't surprised when he continued to munch on his sugar filled protein bar.

"Corazon Donquixote?" she asked. She pulled a sheet from her notebook and continued to speak in a calm, welcoming voice. Autistic? Robin did not have anything in case he didn't communicate. If she couldn't communicate with the boy then she'd have to call someone more experienced to undertake the task. She already had to deal with the huge time constraint placed upon her.

He took another bite of his Clif bar and continued to stare out into space.

"My name is Robin Nico. Do you know why you're here today, speaking with me today?" she asked, watching as the boy took a brief pause, as if to show that he might be preparing for a response, but then change his mind and go back to eating his snack.

"He's had a long day," the guidance counselor said.

"Do you know why he's been called up, exactly?" Robin asked the counselor. "I was told for neglect…and parental absence. Do you have any sort of information on this?" She felt a stare. When he looked over she saw Corazon picking at his food. She looked back at the counselor. The feeling came back shortly afterwords.

"Well I couldn't really get him to say anything," the woman admitted with a small sigh. "He's been very quiet. He wouldn't even write or draw anything out. I figured he's just waiting for his brother. His brother was the one who came to us in the first place."

Robin retained her suspicion. "Was he?" she asked.

"The boy said the two of them were suffering a lot of emotional and mental neglect," the woman replied. "And that he was worried that his brother might be regressing again, so here we are…"

"Again?" Robin asked.

"Oh that happened a while back," the woman said. "But _little_ Cora's back writing at a sixth grade level, and you should really see his Spanish composition."

"But now he's suddenly gone mute?" Robin asked. "Just like that?"

"Yep," the woman replied.

"And this tidbit of information doesn't bother you?" Robin asked again, her fingers wrapping tightly together. She could feel the boy staring at her. Robin slowly let her eyes wader the room, making sure to rest them on the boy. Corazon naturally averted her gaze. He clenched his Clif bar. The boy was smart. Maybe a little smarter than what this dull woman was allowing to account for.

"Oh, we're all very worried," she answered. She looked over at the door. "Maybe his brother can better explain the situation."

Robin could feel an exhaustion suddenly take over her. She could feel Corazon staring at her, watching over her. He was suspicious too. He was suspicious and running out of Clif bar to hide behind.

There was no way these people could be…and then she remembered her own childhood and sighed. These people really couldn't see what was going on, could they?

"You should go get him," Robin said. "I'll stay here, with Corazon. Maybe he might change his mind and decide to give a few words a try."

The moment the woman walked out of the office Robin slowly turned and stared down the blonde boy. "Do you enjoy being talked down to? Because you're giving her permission to treat you like a child when you decide to not speak up for yourself."

She watched him lift his head up. The boy pursed his lips together, his dark makeup forming a strange, twisted looking smile as his eyes traveled across her body. And then, as if to make her uncomfortable, an actual smile formed on his face. She knew were his eyes were resting.

"I know you're not talking for a reason," Robin said."People don't just stop talking without a reason."

He blinked once. The remains of the Clif bar shook in his hands.

"I get that. Sometimes I was so upset I chose to keep quiet. It felt better than not being listened to," she continued. "You can tell me why you're not talking. I'm not going to tell. I'm on your side"

The free hand slid across the table, side by side for a few swipes before grabbing hold of the Clif bag. Robin waited patiently as the sounds of the plastic being crumbled into a small ball began to permeate in the room. It irked her, but it wasn't the worse she had ever experienced. She rested her elbow on the table while Corazon played with his bag.

"We're not going to talk, are we?"

He placed the crumbled bag on the table, staring at it with pride.

"You're just biding time for your brother, aren't you?" Robin sighed, staring down at the files, remembering the information she had learned about the call. The older brother had made the claim for abuse and neglect. "Does your brother not want you to speak?"

Cora stood up from his seat, kneeling just a bit so that his eyes were at the same level as his crumbled bag.

"Did your parents upset you recently? Are you trying to get them into trouble? Is there any trouble at home…"

And then, out of nowhere, the bag was swatted at, and crumbles of the protein bar spread across the table as the bag flew upwards, unraveling just a bit as it began to decent, landing and bouncing right off Robin's chest. Robin sat, stunned, silent, her body stiff with resentment while the room filled with the sound of rapid clapping.

"I'm a little disappointed in you," Robin muttered in a sigh. Corazon grinned widely at her. A fake grin. He was high up there, but it appeared that, in the end, it was all a show. She could see right through it. A fake, plasticy grin that could only be produced by someone who didn't know what they were doing. "Honestly…I might just request you be sent to a foster home, if only because I know someone like you would go crazy in that scenario."

And then the clapping stopped. Robin wiped the top of her breasts of remaining crumbs. She could tell what parts of him were fake. She doubted he had the ability to do the same. Her voice probably rang all in the same tone. It probably came in different tones. In the end he was a fourteen year old boy who probably thought he was going to get away with this stupid plan.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" she clasped her hands together, staring right at the dark shades. That shit eating grin was beginning to fade, and the only thing that seemed to hold at this point was the makeup, and even that couldn't protect Cora from the obvious discomfort.

"…" The boy shifted to the side of the room. Robin looked down at her notebook as she heard the body come to a halt at the corner, hands sliding up and down the wall.

"I know you," she muttered. "I know you or your brother have an idea, but the two of you are young and you have no idea what you're getting yourselves into. You're a whole lot higher in functioning than you're letting on, but I know certain, small changes will get you upset. I know sharing a room with several loud, very young children will mean little peace or privacy. You'll see your parents on visiting days, which will vary. But it will never be on your accord, and it may be a while before you're lucky to see the for the first visit. You'll be forced to see therapists who may or may not look at your disorder with an open mind. You will be touched without permission, all the time by your foster brothers, sisters, parents, and so on. You might even be separated from your brother. Can you handle that, _Rosi–"_

"Cállate."

"Ah," Robin said. "You're speaking again. How wonderful." She picked up her notebook and stood up from her seat. "Your brother will be so relieved–"

"Cállate!" Robin paused. She placed her things back down on the table. Somewhere, deep inside of her subconscious a memory of Saul and her family was beginning to play. She remembered how proud they were when she decided that she would help other children in need. It was a wonderful memory.

"Rosinante? Corazon?" He swayed about in his corner, one hand gripping the oversized beanie. The other was scratching at the wall. Purple, pink, and blue nails dragged across the corner, letting a long screech follow and making the already eerie feeling inside of Robin grow and take root.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," she said. "That was...incredibly unprofessional of me." She could see Saul in the back of her mind. He had warned her. Perhaps she was still too young. Perhaps there was still some anger not yet properly managed. Robin could think of a thousand and one excuses, but in the end she knew she had fucked up.

"Corazon," she said. She inched her way closer until she was at arms length. "Please turn around. Turn around and let me apologize to you."

She took one more step. One more step and that was all it took for something to unleash itself. She had heard stories about being attacked, so quickly and without a warning, and even though she had been told to look for the signs there weren't any, at least not until he felt a hand roughly grab at her wrist, pulling and dragging her down to the floor along with the sinking body in front of her.

Robin realized her voice was lost when she felt the nails dig into her flesh and no words or sounds could leave her. And, of course, for some reason her body chose not to react fast enough to the other decorated hand, which had reached out to grab her face. He actually succeeded in taking her. He probably might have gotten away with hurting her too. And though Robin was scared, frightened, she still couldn't help but scold herself for going that route. Maybe it was because she had a bad day. Maybe it was everybody's terrible attitude. Did it really matter? She wasn't sixteen anymore. The fourteen year-old boy, whose sunglasses had fallen off to expose frightened eyes she had once seen in her own reflection: he had an excuse for his behavior. He was going to rip her face apart.

But he didn't. Robin watched absentmindedly as two pairs of arms yanked the boy upwards, pulling him away and freeing her from his desperate grasp. Robin remained in the floor, staring up at the ceiling with shame, seeing the look of disappointment in Saul's eyes, while listening to the sounds of screams and yelling from every other member of this shitty school.

She was finally hoisted up by a teacher. Another inspected her arm. She looked up and around the room for Corazon, but was could not find him anywhere. In his place was a new boy, looking incredibly familiar in built and dress, but with a more open composure. His sunglasses hung at the collar so Robin could see the absolutely surprised look in his eyes. He obviously did not see this attack coming. Nor did Robin. They were both shocked by this.

"Ms. Nico," a voice muttered. She wasn't sure whom it belonged to. She really didn't care. "Ms. Nico, I am so sorry about this. We've already contacted his father and the ambulance…tell me, did he–"

"No," Robin said, pulling away from the teacher. "No…he didn't do anything wrong." She turned and stared at the terrified older brother. "Corazon did nothing wrong. Please, don't get him into anymore trouble."

* * *

><p>Doflamingo, carrying the blue sheet that he would eventually have to give to his father to sign off, dragged himself over to the nurse's office. He knew right away that the patient's room would be locked and that he would have to be careful when trying to make contact with his younger brother.<p>

He leaned against the door. He opened his mouth, but said nothing. He was still in shock. He hadn't seen a tantrum like that in a while. He didn't know it could take up to three adults to hold his younger brother down. His fourteen year old brother. His _little brother_. The boy stared down at his referral as he tried to think up something funny to say to himself. Nothing came up.

"Cora?" he said aloud. He felt his cellphone go off. He pulled away from the door, stepping back and giving it a formal knock.

"Hey, I know they put you in there," Doflamingo said. He smiled nervously at the door, hoping that maybe his brother might be able to look through it.

His cell went off again. This time Doflamingo couldn't help but pull it out and let it rest in his hands. He still kept his eye on the door. He could hear everyone behind him make comments. It made him sick to his stomach to see things turn out so poorly. And now all these idiots were going to judge him and his brother for it.

What was Corazon doing behind the door? How was he faring, trapped in a room without window, walls white and covered with graphically detailed pictures of the human body? How was Corazon underneath that harsh light? Did he have his sunglasses keeping him from panicking under the light? Was the beanie comforting him?

"Hey, bro," Doflamingo said, keeping the smile on his face. "You wanna let me in on what happened in there?" He looked down at his phone and stared at the name and text that was sent to him. His face burned red. He was upset. Embarrassed. "I'm not angry," he said. "Totally not angry one bit. But I am worried."

"Come on," he said. "Say something. Knock for me. Let me know you're in there."

His phone went off again. Doflamingo wasted no time to check the final message. He stared at it for a few second, his eyes burning just a little bit as he let his arm go limp.

_Croco- I'm busy this weekend._

After a few seconds he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He took a deep breath, rethinking this brand new situation, and what it would mean for him until the following week. Finally, he thought about what he would do with himself for the next few hours.

"Cora, I'm sorry," he said aloud. "This was a bad idea. I thought I could teach that old man a lesson. I didn't mean for you to get locked up."

Doflamingo let a hand through his hair. He played nervously with his sunglasses. He could hear the sounds of sirens just outside of the building. He looked down at his blue slip, his frown stretching down his face until he couldn't stand the pain spreading across his face.

Once again, things were no longer looking good.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think in the form or a PM or review.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, enjoy.

Edited 10/31

* * *

><p>-Event Horizon-<p>

Crocodile woke up with dry eyes and a painful sting running through his skull. The rising sun stretched light across his small room, hitting him right in the face. After several minutes spent cursing over his hangover and the men who brought the pain upon him, he slowly pulled himself out of bed and flung himself into the shower. Sometime between the shower and his bedroom, Crocodile remembered getting a text from Doflamingo. As he rinsed his hair of shampoo he pondered over whether it would be worth to check the text right away. It wasn't an unusual thing, but subjects that brought upon the chain of texts had been. Doflamingo wanted to try spending the weekend with him. Then suddenly strange texts about his brother. Something weird was going on in Doflamingo's world. Crocodile hated to think about it. Thinking about texts from a sixteen year old was hard enough.

He got out of the shower, back into his room, dried and dressed himself, and finally checked his phone that he found to have left underneath his bed. There was Doflamingo's name shining brightly on the screen.

_Doffy- I got suspended. I'm free Friday?_

It had been sent several hours prior. Crocodile stared at it, then followed by asking himself the important question: did he want Doflamingo tonight? It was Friday, which meant no classes or work, so Doflamingo could easily spend the night if he wanted. Then again, Doflamingo was also suspended. How in the hell did that happen, and did Crocodile really want to pander the child after he received a punishment?

Crocodile sat on his bed, staring quietly at the screen till it began to faded and turn off. He would be busy Saturday working on a project. Crocodile could feel the presence of all his textbooks suddenly push down on him. Midterms were around the corner and the rest of the week would be incredibly busy. He paused and privately declared that Doflamingo would be worth the twenty-four hour period. It would be a long night but he was sure it would better for the two of them in the longer, longer run. One less night in the apartment. The boy could use that. It was the least he could do.

After complaining his way into the kitchen, bickering loudly enough for a hung-over Moria to hear, he consumed his breakfast, coming back to life at the taste of caffeine, and then finally made his way back into this room. He flopped himself in his nesting chair, resting a cheek against the burnt orange cushion, finally pulling out his phone at just about ten in the morning, hoping by that point the boy might feel a little more grateful for the risk he was about to take. Crocodile wasn't a sicko or anything, but having a sixteen year old in the house was a pretty big deal and sometimes he wanted Doflamingo to know just that. This was a big deal.

After sending his text Crocodile meandered around the house. He wasn't waiting for a reply, because he knew it would be a matter of minutes before he received Doflamingo's response. In fact, he was almost positive he had received it. Crocodile wasn't being cocky. He checked his phone, all the way back in his room. Yes, he had gotten a reply. A small smile appeared on his face. See, he wasn't worried one bit, Crocodile.

He wondered if he ought to attempt to get some tutoring hours in today before picking up Doflamingo. A couple extra dollars never hurt.

_What time?_ he asked.

_Asap._ was received.

_K_. he sent.

He wouldn't get any hours in, not if he was supposed to be on his way _as soon as possible_. It would be wrong to drag this, he thought briefly, getting back up and grabbing some money and his keys before heading out of the house. Tutoring on Friday was optional anyways. Getting sex was difficult.

He drove by his campus and when he did Crocodile couldn't help but stare at it, a little worried that somewhere, deep within the education labs, someone knew he was visiting a high school student outside of his working hours. He would nervously rub his fingers against his e-cigarette. And then he would pass the series of buildings, and that fear was driven out of him, passing now through neighborhood, city, and eventually off into the freeway. Crocodile brought his e-cigarette to his mouth and take a small hit of whatever mixture was set inside, letting a new calm wash over him as he made his way over to Doflamingo's neighborhood.

* * *

><p>"I'm leaving."<p>

Corazon stared into the darkness of his bed sheets; his body wrapped up in so many layers, the sounds of his brother's voice was almost completely muddled.

"I cooked you some eggs," he heard Doflamingo say. He remained silent, barely listening as he let his mind continue to reel over the fact that he had suffered a suspension. A suspension? It had been so long since he had gotten into that sort of trouble. And over what? He let those feelings get the better of him. He had stopped thinking and let those pains inside of his chest take control.

"They should be cool enough for you to peel in about ten minutes," Doflamingo added. His brother sounded incredibly calm. This didn't appear to be a big deal for him. But then, his brother was used to this sort of thing.

"And there's some coffee," Doflamingo added. "I made you a lot. I know you love it. You can heat it up later, just let it cool off first."

Corazon continued to stare out into the dark covers of his sheets. He grabbed hold of his legs, keeping the silence as he waited for some sort of sign from his brother. What was this sign? He wasn't too sure himself.

"Promise you'll wait. I don't want you burning yourself again."

He knew Doffy wouldn't lie to him, or at least that was what he had to believe. Unless the woman was serious. She couldn't be serious. Doffy wouldn't make that kind of risk. Family was important. They were only teaching father a lesson. Doffy wouldn't dare risk having him taken away. Corazon couldn't handle such a change. Doffy knew. He _knew_. But something irked the teen. Something made him ill in the stomach. He couldn't help but feel a growing suspicion that the woman was not out of his life. He had been given his day suspension, and that was punishment enough, but somehow he felt her presence around him, threatening his precious little world.

"Cora?"

He covered his mouth with his hand.

"Rosi? Anybody home?"

It was a frightening. The woman had scared him. She had set him off. She had said those things, and without warning, so quick and cruel. Not even the worst of his childhood bullies said those sorts of things.

"…please say something before I go."

These words stung the most. These words that his brother just said stung him in the chest almost as bad as the woman's cruel words. He blinked, waiting to see if the pain would be willing to take the form of wet eyes. He waited to see if his brother would give him that sign. An…an _explanation_. Corazon blinked, not feeling any wet run down his face yet. That was what he craved: some kind of explanation. A reason behind their suffering. His own suffering.

He waited and waited a bit more, his arm going numb from holding on to himself for so long, and his head getting dizzy from the overdose of hot, stale air. He had no choice.

When he pulled off the covers he noticed his brother was no longer in the room.

Corazon looked around, observing all the little details in his shared room, a little confused as to when his brother had given up and left him alone.

Corazon wasn't sure what to make of it. He was _grounded_. What did the word entail? What was he to make of a useless sound with little meaning? He wished his brother had told him before leaving to go out. He thought for a few seconds more. He decided he'd go outside. If Doflamingo went outside then he would go outside.

Corazon slowly got out of bed, slipping over a pair of Doffy's boxer briefs and landing roughly on the floor, getting back up, and went over to the washroom where he stared at his strange reflection for several minutes, admiring how peculiar he looked without his facial decorations, while also wondering how he could feel so sad but so look…bored? Was that the word? Did he appear bored? Bored meant a straight face, correct? He was so used to seeing a smile painted on his face. He looked down at his arms. There were a few new bruises littered across where he had been grabbed by the staff yesterday. They didn't hurt. He would have to wear some long sleeves for the next few days though.

After cleaning himself up he hurried back into his room, only slipping and landing face flat once more. He dressed in a plain heartagram shirt and pale skinny jeans, and then walked out of the apartment, barefoot, without makeup, practically naked, over to the grass.

His toes curled into the grass as he looked around the small garden area. Already he was missing his friends. He knew it was missing. It was a bad feeling, like someone scooped a part of his insides away, leaving him with a nice chunk of his heart still intact, but with enough taken away that Cora just…_knew_. Corazon fell down to a squat, staring at each blade with mild interest, thinking about his poor brother and how he had ignored him some time prior. He wished he hadn't been so rude. Corazon wished he could just ask his brother "_why_?" and then to have the answer make complete sense to him.

Of course Doffy wouldn't have them separated. They were just teaching father a lesson. That was all there was.

He was being stupid again. He was jumping to conclusions. Doflamingo was not the liar. _She_ was the liar. And Cora was so stupid. Stupid Cora let her words get to him and mess with his mind, and so well no amount of hiding from her would get rid of that frightening feeling inside of him. Stupid Rosinante. Stupid, stupid boy.

So the boy forced a smile on his face. Corazon sat himself down on the grass as he let the word ring in his head a few more times, his fingers finding their way down between each blade, reaching into soft soil and beyond. The empty feeling grew more, stretching upwards into his throat. The smile meant happiness, but it seemed like there was nothing he could do for himself. His face was beginning to hurt, and Corazon was sure his affliction was not about to go away anytime soon.

He stared up at the sun.

It would be a lonely day.

* * *

><p>Doflamingo walked over to the local McDonald's, spotting Crocodile's car parked right in front of the fast-food establishment. People were going in and out of the restaurant. People were driving by. The blond said a few choice words to himself. It was a big enough risk for him to be wandering around, in public, and on a school day. He hurried over to the car, knocking lightly on the glass, putting on his best smile, and made his way inside of the car.<p>

"Fries?" he heard Crocodile offer. The man seemed a little too preoccupied with his smartphone to notice Doflamingo's concern.

"Right in front where everyone can see?" the boy answered in response. He threw his bag behind him in the passenger seats. He looked over at Crocodile and the medium container of fries being offered to him. After plucking a few he then added, "You want to go to jail or something? "

"If I act like I have nothing to hide…"

"…Well, I can't argue with that," Doflamingo said, stuffing fries into his mouth. "It's still pretty risky though, I wouldn't like it if you got in trouble."

"Did you bring extra clothes?"

"Yes," Doflamingo answered. He took another small helping of fries while Crocodile started the car. He was sure he could see the change in movement and energy coming from the man as he reattached his phone to the auxiliary cord, small, thin smile spreading across his face. The smile made Doflamingo excited, a little nervous, but very warm and eager to make it back to Crocodile's.

He took a hungry bite and looked outside of the passenger window.

"What did you do this time?" he heard Crocodile ask.

"I thought I was in better control of a situation," Doflamingo answered. He grabbed the soda resting in the cup holder and began to nurse from the straw, still staring out of the window with a look of minor annoyance. "I got my brother suspended from school."

"What did you do?"

"I pissed off a secretary because she was being a cunt," Doflamingo answered. He let his mouth fill up with sugary drink, letting his mind float a bit more before adding on the worst of the news. "And my brother nearly choked out a CPS adviser."

"…what?"

Doflamingo's teeth clenched against the straw. "It was a huge my bad."

"I'm not making the connection," Crocodile said. "But it sounds like you and your brother rightfully deserved the suspension."

Doflamingo sank into the passenger seat. "You're supposed to tell me I'm right."

He heard a long groan escape from Crocodile. "I really don't want to have conversation about your brother and how you managed to get yourself into trouble again, Doffy."

Doflamingo frowned. "You're no fun." He placed the soda cup back into the cup holder and sighed, glancing over at the older man to see if he was getting any reaction. Things didn't go entirely to plan. Doflamingo was a smart boy though. Crocodile had the resources he needed to pull off another escape attempt. "…Where are we going?" he asked."Anywhere special?

"Just my place."

Doflamingo very quickly turned and stared eagerly at Crocodile. A small smile appeared on his face. "Do you think we could visit your university for a second?"

He watched Crocodile's hands nervously grip the steering wheel. He supposed it was out of precaution. Really, how many people on campus would look at the two of them and suspect a thing? It amused the boy to no ends to see how paranoid his older lover became when they were together. Sure, he had been a little tense himself when they were in front of McDonald's, but a university? Doflamingo was sure the people there would think he appeared to be about eighteen. And it wasn't like they were holding hands or anything.

Crocodile spoke. "Why?"

Doflamingo's grin grew wider. "I'm looking for a book." Crocodile's eyes fluttered for a second. Doflamingo chuckled. "And right now you look like you have something to hide."

"Your school can't provide?"

A small pout appeared on the blond's face. "I go to a shitty high school. I'm looking for something a bit more…detailed. I need you to rent it for me. _Please._"

"Fine," Crocodile answered.

The teen smiled. He reached out, giving the older man a small peck on the cheek, then quickly went back to his seat before Crocodile could make a comment, staring joyfully out of the front window. "You're so good to me."

"…whatever," he heard Crocodile say. He kept his smile on. "What's it called?"

Doflamingo pulled out his phone and began to send a mass text to his friends. He was careful to keep his screen out of Crocodile's view.

"Not sure. I haven't picked it out yet," he answered. "But I'm pretty sure I'll want to check the part of your library that deals with engineering stuff. Car stuff. Car parts in general."

"Alright," Crocodile said.

Doflamingo looked at the screen of his phone. So far nobody had responded. He blinked, staring hopefully at the few names listed on top.

He peered out and could see they were on the freeway. In less than twenty minutes he could recollect his thoughts and start all over. It had been an incredibly frustrating several hours. He had hardly gotten any sleep as he spent all night wondering what sort of things that woman had said to his brother. Did Corazon still believe in him? When he eventually returned to the apartment…would his brother be willing to speak to him?

"Crocodile," Doflamingo muttered. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

"…do you think I'm stupid for calling CPS?"

He turned and watched Crocodile stare out into the busy freeway, making out just the subtle changes in his face as the older man thought the answer out. Doflamingo could tell that Crocodile was still surprised to hear that he had gone along with the plan. Revelation was all over the man's scarred face, and his reaction to it didn't seem positive.

"It was incredibly risky," Crocodile answered, trying to dodge the obvious answer. Even Doflamingo was beginning to suspect this wasn't the best of ideas. Seeing what had happened, he was worried that he was letting his emotions get in the way of a much bigger goal.

"Things obviously didn't work in your favor," he heard Crocodile add on.

"No, they didn't," Doflamingo said, feeling his head grow just a little too heavy for comfort. He rested against the seat, letting a hand rise up and cover his mouth.

"And you'll have to pay for it," Crocodile said. "Somehow…"

"I didn't want to get my brother into _that much_ trouble," Doflamingo said.

He heard Crocodile sigh.

"I know, I know," Doflamingo said. "You don't like these conversations."

It went silent in the car. Neither Crocodile or Doflamingo was willing to add on to the sudden change, the awkward topic that could only exist in such a estranged relationship.

"I'm sorry," the boy finally forced out of his lips.

He watched Crocodile continue to stiffly control the steering wheel. His shaded spectacles locked on to Crocodile's eyes, desperately waiting for something. He wanted some for of forgiveness. The blond needed. There was literally nowhere else for him to go to.

"I get it," Crocodile said. "No…I get it."

"Ok."

More silence. Doflamingo wasn't upset anymore. He wished there was something else he could add, but at least he didn't feel like complete shit.

He noticed Crocodile lowering his left hand from the steering wheel, a sign that he had also begun to calm down, and rest it on his lap. Doflamingo locked on to it, wishing he could just grab hold of it. He wanted to selfishly take it in his own hand and hold on for dear life.

A night away from _that place_ was never enough. He could spend the rest of the week with Crocodile and it wouldn't do him any good. A month. A year. As nice as it was, Doflamingo was becoming more aware that there was really only one way to assure himself permanent happiness.

He stared at the hand and smiled.

* * *

><p>Corazon stared up the ceiling on his side of the room, the eerie slow music playing in the background, his mind seemingly at peace. He brought a half used cigarette to his thin lips, letting his lungs fill with nicotine ridden smoke. One of his tarantula's legs poked his wrist.<p>

Today he had learned a very important lesson behind his actions. The first lesson he had learned that it had been wrong for him to not answer his brother when he had asked for some attention.

He felt several legs begin to trek their way up his arm. He felt his tarantula step on a bruise. Corazon turned his head and looked out the tiny window, staring at the setting sun with a little bit of worry. Doffy had been gone for several hours now, and soon their father would be home. Grounded meant you were not supposed to be out all day. The tarantula stopped.

He had _also_ learned that he and Doffy had been wrong to try to trick the Child Protective person into thinking he had regressed again. _What was regression_, Corazon wondered as he stared at the skies developing starlight. He pushed the word around in his mind, letting it hang high above to save for later. He would think hard about the definition later.

But...it was wrong because it meant risking his family's happiness. It was wrong because he was just angry at a few things, and some of them involved his father. As Corazon thought about it throughout the day he realized that he was also angry at other things, some of them involving Doffy. But then other things involved his friends. And others involved school. A few involved himself. He didn't want to hurt his big brother. He didn't want to hurt his friends. He didn't want to hurt that woman. It would be a terrible thing…to hurt his father.

The doorbell rang. Corazon felt a twitch of the eye come about. The doorbell always seemed to ring right when someone was at their most comfortable. Very slowly he sat himself upwards, carefully grabbing his pink-toed pet and placing her back inside the tiny cage placed at the foot of his bed. He took another quick hit from his cigarette before smashing it against the tiny coaster placed next to the cage.

Corazon sighed as he made his way over to the door.

He wondered if his misplaced frustrations had anything to do with his sudden burst of fear and anger back at school? As he opened the front door another question burst inside of his skull, asking why he was just angry in general.

His eyes went wide.

She stood there. The same woman from before. She was standing in front of him, a thin smile on her face, next to his father. _His father_.

They were together. _Why?_

"Ro-"

Corazon slammed the door, not giving his father the chance to speak, and especially not giving the woman a chance to talk.

Corazon wasn't crazy. For some reason though, a strange, almost alien calm hit him and he suddenly couldn't help but slowly walk back in the direction of his room, ignoring the voices behind telling him to please open the door. The voices said it wasn't his fault, but Corazon seemed a little too preoccupied with the fact that he reeked of cigarette smoke and still had his precious tarantula out in the open. It was a problem; the tarantula was a secret, and Corazon wasn't supposed to be smoking. So he walked back into his half of the room, looking around just in case his brother decided to magically appear out of thin air, a little disappointed that he didn't, and grabbed his coaster and shoved it far underneath his bed. He groaned when he saw the coaster slide across, then suddenly flip over and spill the ashy contents all over the rug. Next was the tarantula cage. He pushed her into the middle. He walked over to the small window and opened it all the way, hoping the next few minutes would be particularly windy. And they weren't. If anything, the air probably became more still. His room just reeked of smoke.

Where was Doffy?

_Stupid Rosinante_. Corazon could hear the door open.

He inched his way over to the door and quietly shut it, locking it nice and slowly so that hopefully, nobody would notice it had happened. Maybe both his father and the woman would just not notice he was here. He sank into a squat, letting his shoulder rest against the door, ignoring the pains from those new bruises, wishing he had a way of contacting Doflamingo. He could certainly use some advice on this matter. Why was his father with that woman? Why was she here?

"Corazon?"

Hearing her voice caused the boy to slip and hit his head against the door. He very quickly recovered from the pain, bringing himself back into his previous position, though this time his head and hand rested against the door.

"It's me, Robin." Her voice was smooth. Corazon kept his defenses high. If she was calm that meant she came prepared. "Your father said it would be alright if I had a few minutes with you and your brother. Is that alright?"

Corazon looked over at the rather empty room, concluding that it couldn't possibly be "alright" if his brother wasn't around for her to communicate with.

"Uhm…" He nervously tapped his fingers against the door. "…no?"

"No?"

Corazon looked down. The fingers kept tapping, though the sound was hectic and made no sense with the music playing in the background. "No," he muttered.

"…I understand," he heard her say. "Before I go…I wanted to apologize profusely on my behavior yesterday. It wasn't professional of me to have said those things. That must have been a lot to take in."

"…"

"I know what its like to have your entire world thrown upside down. It's not fun. I should have known better than to frighten you."

"…" He suddenly heard a small sound from underneath. Corazon looked down and stared at a small slip of paper.

"It's my job to watch over and protect children who might be at any kind of risk," he heard Ms. Robin say. "I don't want to fail you. I want to make it up to you. If you ever feel like things might have become overwhelming, or if you're hurt by anyone, family or school or friends, please…"

He picked up the small sheet of paper, unfolding it and staring at the number in front of him. A wave if suspicion hit him. Did Doffy actually understand how things were going to unfold? This woman was not as she had appeared before. Doffy wanted to use this woman against father. She had been invited in the apartment by their father. She was not a tool that his brother could trust.

"…Don't be afraid to call," she finished. "…ok?"

But was she a tool _he_ could trust?

Things were far more complicated than he had imagined. Corazon refolded the paper and shoved them into his jeans. He would show this to his brother later. They would need to talk about all of this later.

"Oh-Kay," he answered flatly. He folded his arms. In a few minutes she would be gone and hopefully everything would be over.

"…alright then."

Corazon closed his eyes, feeling safe and relieved

"…Can I talk to your brother for a second?" Robin lightly knocked on the door. "Doflamingo, are you there?"

Uh-oh.


	4. Chapter 4

AN- Let me know what you guys think.

Edited- 11/1

* * *

><p>-Event Horizon-<p>

This was a memory, and it was also a nightmare. A dream from six years ago, about two boys running from bigger, faster, and _ badder_ things. At the age of ten Doflamingo knew how to fight back, he knew how to defend himself for short periods of time, but he didn't know how to pick his words wisely. It didn't take long for those words to get thrown back at him. It didn't take long for the pain to sink in and tear him from the inside. He could never win a fight once the words got to him.

The child was tossed across the playground, landing roughly on his back, forced to stared up at the bright, cloudless sky. Doflamingo blinked a few times, his eyes burning with sweat, tears, and dirt mixing into his vision. He sniffed, covering his face with his arm, feeling a strong, coppery taste in the back of his throat. It was shocking how just a few feet could feel like an eternity of lying. The impact of landing always stuck out the most. Doflamingo's entire back burned.

He could hear them laughing at him. It didn't matter if it was a boy or girl, somebody was always laughing and making mockery of his suffering.

"Look; dirty little Doffy is gonna cry!"

Doflamingo's eyes stung bad as he forced himself up, his scrapped knees aching from the prior kicks of a sixth grader, his stomach smarting bad from a fellow fifth. He picked up his sunglasses and carefully placed them in his pocket, unwilling to have them scratched up anymore than what they were.

He couldn't afford to buy a new pair, no matter how cheap.

"He's getting up!"

"He wants some more!"

"Dirty Doffy wants some more!"

The sixth grader approached him. He had a long, dry looking grin on his pimply face. The boy crossed his arms, staring down at the skinny ten year old.

"Are you sure your brother is the only retard in the family?" the boy taunted. "Cause after what I did to you, only a retard would be dumb enough to get back up."

Doflamingo stared up, sniffing roughly to stop some of the blood from oozing down his reddened nose.

"He's not talking!"

"He's just like his brother!"

"Retard!"

Doflamingo squeezed his dry, rough hands into fists. "I'm not a retard," he said, his voice shaking with anger. "My brother's not a retard!" He swung a fist at the sixth grader, the boy who dared to follow and pick on his little brother the past few days, calling him cruel names and pushing him to the floor. Everybody though they were better than him and his brother. Because Rosi wouldn't say a thing, they all thought it was ok to call him names. Everyone thought it was ok to call them poor and dirty because they didn't wear nice clothes. Everybody thought it was alright to beat Doflamingo to the ground, rubbing his face against the dirty playground sand, mocking him and his family.

The boy yelped, stumbling back and holding on to his protruding gut. Doflamingo felt a sense of accomplishment when he saw tears begin to form in the eyes of his enemy.

But that feeling quickly subsided. Someone grabbed him. Another boy, and this one was bigger than the other.

He whimpered.

"Look at the little freak," the larger boy taunted. He pulled at Doflamingo hairs. The boy hissed in pain, letting the blood flow from his nose as he tried to blindly scratch at his new tormentor. "Look at him. He's an animal. He's just like his brother, but worse!"

Doflamingo yelled. "Shut up!"

The sixth grader from before faced him. "Nobody likes you!"

"Shut up!"

"Everybody hates you because you're so poor and get into fights all the time!"

Tears were beginning to roll down the boy's pale face. "Shut up," he whimpered. "Shut up, you don't know anything!"

The taller boy holding him up laughed. "Not even your retard brother likes you!" he yanked the boy's hair more, earning more screams from Doflamingo.

"No!" Doflamingo yelled. "No, no, no! You're wrong!"

"If I'm wrong then why does he run away from you?" the boy asked in a terribly cruel tone.

"He always runs away when you come along," another kid remarked.

Doflamingo stopped trying to attack the boy, feeling the pain in his chest become a little too overwhelming to bear. "No! No, he's just scared…"

"He's scared of you!"

More tears ran down his face as the taller boy suddenly dropped him. He looked up and realized he was surrounded. Where were the adults? Why were they taking so long to save him, again?

"He's probably embarrassed by you!" A girl laughed. "You can't even watch over him right!"

"What good are you?"

Doflamingo felt a quick kick against his leg. The boy yelped again, stumbling and falling down to the ground.

"Dirty Doffy can't win a fight!"

"Loser!"

He stood on his hand sand knees, letting droplets of tears and blood hit the floor.

Someone sang. _"Retard, retard. Your brother is a retard!"_

Doflamingo lifted his head and through the gaps of his tormentors legs could make out a small shape standing not too far away.

His brother held on to the gate, finger's curled into the metal fixture, eyes wide and yet, somehow emotionless. Doflamingo stared out, desperate to extend his hand out so that his brother could grab and save him from this misery, but no sooner did he notice his brother did he see the boy turn away from him, covering his head out of fear for something the older boy didn't comprehend.

And then he felt something sharp hit his head. The boy curled into a ball, holding on to his aching head, crying out in pain as everyone laughed at him. He stammered. "R-Ro-"

A sharp whistle echoed across the playground. The children made a run for it, the sounds of adults screaming after them. Some of them were laughing, mostly the girls who would never be accused of such terrible behavior. Doflamingo could still make out someone singing the taunts.

Doflamingo lay on the floor, waiting for someone to pick him up and scold him for being a part of a fight. Even though the fight was for his honor. Even though the fight was to protect his poor little brother.

Poor? _Poor._

Instead he saw something running, stumbling, and falling up to him. He blinked, letting the tears run out from his vision, and could make out his brother crawling over to him.

He looked back up to the sky, the pain getting worse as he realized he had lost this fight, again. He seemed to lose more and more. He stared up and saw his brother's shadowed form looking down at him, but not directly. Rosi never looked anyone in the eyes. It was pathetic, an indicator of his inferiority. Doflamingo wished there was something he could do about it.

He felt a hand cover his nose. His brother's hands, which knew nothing when it came to be soft or delicate in movement. Corazon's hand pressed hard against his nose. It stung so bad Doflamingo could feel the icy pain race across his forehead. He quickly raised his hand and swatted away, managing to hit some of his brother's small hand.

He yelled. "No!" he watched his brother stumbled back. "No. Me. Toque!"

Doflamingo forced himself up, cupping his bloody nose as he heard an adult yell at him to come over. He blinked, letting more tears run down his filthy face. He looked over, his eyes widening in horror as he watched his eight-year-old brother crawl away from him, holding on to his swatted hand. Doflamingo lowered his gaze down to his free hand, noticing the subtle sting from when he had accidentally attacked his brother.

He shook his head. "No, Corazón!" He reached his arm out and touched his brother leg. He watched his brother freeze in place, his entire body going stiff, then shiver, as if to await the same punishment he had viewed just minutes ago.

Doflamingo pulled his hand back. His lower lip trembled as he let his brother run and stumble away from him. A hand grabbed his reddened arm and hoisted him up, pulling him in the direction of the main office.

"L-lo…siento…."

* * *

><p>Doflamingo woke up early, but not early enough as he woke up in an empty bed. He reached out to the other side, staring at the space that Crocodile had left behind. The boy blinked a few times, staring out at the rest of Crocodile's small rented room, waiting for it all to wash away. He turned over to his side, checking out the nesting chair and thinking about all the times he had wished he had fucked in it. He grabbed more blankets and rested on his back, staring up the the mesmerizing ceiling and letting his sanity get sucked into it.<p>

Crocodile stumbled in, covered only by a towel. Doflamingo remained in bed, only giving the occasional glance over at the older man. When the towel came off Doflamingo made sure to count the seconds between glances. He would not be desperate. Crocodile was over twenty, and the differences between the two males was incredibly noticeable, especially in the bed, and Doflamingo couldn't bear to appear, even for a brief second, more desperate than what he currently felt. Crocodile had everything. Doflamingo chose to ignore it and count off till the next glance.

He listened to Crocodile go through his wardrobe. The boy pulled a lip into his mouth, sucking for a few seconds, as he pondered over his fate. He sighed and opened his mouth. "What time can you drop me off?"

"I can be ready in twenty," Crocodile replied. "Unless you want a shower?"

"No," Doflamingo said. "Not really."

"Alright."

He sat himself up on the bed, looking around the messy room in hopes of his clothes magically appearing before him. When he understood this would not happen he went to wondering how to carefully ask for Crocodile's aid. He wanted help. He wanted attention. He didn't want to appear as though he was begging for it. When he saw Crocodile grab the hairdryer he sighed and decided to begin the search.

"Did you sleep well?" he heard the man ask. Doflamingo knelt down and picked up his tossed boxer-briefs. He scooped up his skinny jeans and his dark button-up shirt. He looked around nervously for his socks, his tie, and his really nice jacket.

"Yes," he lied. "Thanks for asking."

"Mhmm," was all Crocodile said before exiting the room.

Doflamingo quickly got dressed. Crocodile came back with his hair done up all pretty and soft looking. Doflamingo blushed and searched for his socks and shoes. Crocodile grabbed the keys to his car and began to make up the messy bed. Doflamingo looked over and felt his face burn, wanting and wishing time would slow down, barely managing to find his tie underneath Crocodile's dirty clothes. Crocodile stared out the window, feeling anxious the longer Doflamingo wandered about in his room, wishing that time would speed up and they'd be out the door already.

They were out in thirty.

There was very little to talk about on the way to the apartment. Crocodile talked about his midterms, which were next week, and Doflamingo wouldn't be able to sneak over and spend the night until he was finished with them all. Doflamingo laughed it off. He pretended he didn't care. He pulled out his smartphone and began to pretend to play with it.

He had six missed calls from home. He also had several texts from his trustworthy companions, each one bearing wonderful news, bu those several calls from home had Doflamingo feeling less than awesome about the developing news.

He doubted his brother had done something. He knew who had called. He wasn't going to call back.

Crocodile brought up Doflamingo's classes. Doflamingo shrugged it off. He was doing ok in class. Anything more would be asking too much from him. Anything less and Doflamingo would have absolutely no reason not to quit school.

Crocodile sighed, offering the boy a few hits from his e-cigarette. Doflamingo took enough to calm himself down. They stopped at a liquor store and Doflamingo was able to get his weeks worth of real cigarettes from Crocodile. Of course, Doflamingo made sure it was his own money being spent. He wasn't going to have Crocodile spend everything on him. This meant nothing for his brother, as Doflamingo only had enough for two packs, which he desperately needed. The blond said nothing on the matter, sure that he would find time, either through Diamante or Trebol, to get his brother his pack of cigarettes.

He was dropped off a block away. Crocodile asked him once more if he was all right and Doflamingo smiled back, wishing he could grab the man and hit him for making him feel like a helpless child, and said he was great. He would miss him. He'd try to visit after school during his tutoring hours.

Crocodile kissed him. _Crocodile lifted himself right from his seat and kissed him on the lips_. Doflamingo fought every urge to act his age. He replied cooly to Crocodile's romantic gestures, pretending to be bigger than what he was. _It was just a kiss_, he told himself over and over again as he made his way back to the apartment complex. Doflamingo let the words echo in his mind all the way to the shithole he called shithole.

What else could he call it? It wasn't a home; he hadn't had a real home since his poor mother was killed. He hadn't known that sense of security since he was a small child; still young and hopeful for the future to come. That kid was dead gone, and so were any of those feelings. He was sixteen and shared a tiny room with his fourteen year old brother. They had no heater. No air conditioner. They had no privacy from each other. They had only a tiny window to look out of, and the view was shit.

He pulled out his key, but discovered the front door was unlocked. He went inside and was welcomed by the sight of his brother's tarantula cage situated on the kitchen table. The spider was supposed to be a secret: a special, private act of revolt against Homing. He then noticed the other things surrounding the cage. He saw his empty pack of cigarettes he forgot to throw away. He saw his half-empty bottle of Jack.

He walked over to the kitchen table. Doflamingo stared down, right beneath the cage, eyes on the giant spider hidden underneath her half-log.

A smile appeared on his face. "Are you going to have the shelter pick it up?" He rested his elbows on the table, reached out and picked his brother's not so empty pack of cigarettes. He looked over his shoulder ad stared at the man who had entered the small kitchen. "Are you going to make him hate you some more?"

He watched as the older man crossed his arms, looking down a bit, shaking his head in disbelief.

Doflamingo leered at him. "I also find it fascinating that you tried calling me. Six times too! As if I'd have answered..."

He stuffed the small box into his skinny jeans. He turned around and faced Homing, expecting the man to appear just a little more broken; instead, he was staring back at him with a mild look of amusement.

"What?" he asked.

"CPS came here last night," Homing answered. "I couldn't answer where you had gone."

"How embarrassing," Doflamingo said.

"A little," the older man admitted. "I'm still in shock that you even called in the first place."

Doflamingo smiled.

"Ended up fishing all of this out from underneath the bed," Homing said, looking over at his sons' little treasure pile. "Ms. Robin suggested I let you two finish off your first punishment before enacting a second."

"Robin?"

"The woman who will be shadowing and interviewing you starting Monday."

Doflamingo frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Homing sighed again, his eyes locking on the stashed cigarette in Doflamingo's pocket.

"Your attempt to make me appear as a neglectful parent has succeeded."

"Really? I should have said I was a chain smoker a long time ago."

"That wasn't the reason," Homing said. He walked over to Doflamingo. Doflamingo stepped away, passing the man by without making the slightest amount of physical contact.

"What was then?" he demanded.

"You not answering your phone six times."

The boy chuckled. "That? Well, they sure have their priorities straight."

"The drugs, alcohol and spider didn't help," Homing said. Doflamingo could detect his growing annoyance.

He knew his brother was home. Doflamingo also knew the tarantula not being underneath the bed meant that his brother was probably upset, if not absolutely terrified, over the prospects of losing his precious pet. He wanted nothing more than to set his brother off. It was a terribly, honest thought that made him worry over his position of power.

Doflamingo mentally exhaled, shaking off any growing fears that dared to spring up inside of him. If he could get his brother on his side it wouldn't matter that he would have to be shadowed. He didn't have to scare his brother. Doflamingo knew there were other options. Fear had gotten his brother suspended. More fear, and Doflamingo would actually risk having his brother taken away to some loony bin. There were other ways. He knew. Trust. They were brothers. They were supposed to trust each other. He could earn his brother's trust, _again_.

As long as Corazon was on his side then that was two against one.

"What are you going to do about the spider?" he asked.

Homing stared long and hard at him. Doflamingo was almost sure the man was trying to read his mind.

Doflamingo smirked. "You'd be surprise how well he's taken care of it."

Homing remained silent. Doflamingo continued to pester. "He bought it himself. With his money. His monthly income. Money you _couldn't_ earn."

Homing went back to staring at the cigarette pack.

"Don't bother," Doflamingo said. He began walking over to his room, not the least bit worried about what the old man might do. There was an understanding. An unspoken understanding. He knew that Homing knew he would just go out and buy another pack. Even better, he'd buy something for his little brother when he had the chance.

"Nice talking with you, Homing," the boy said, pulling out a cigarette from the packet, making sure his father saw it being taken out and placed into his mouth, before shutting the door to his room.

* * *

><p>"I will…." Corazon listened as his brother pace from side to side, nervous smile plastered all over his face, cigarette at hand (and Cora was pretty damn sure that was his brand, not his brother's), and free fingers sticking out as if they were searching for something to latch on to, "take <em>full<em> responsibility… if you lose your tarantula."

He stared down at his bed, feeling his chest burn with an intense heat of rage. This wasn't very fair. It wasn't fair that his brother was gone all day, and night, doing whatever he pleased, and he was the one that might lose something!

"Ok, ok, ok!" Doflamingo went over to his bed, sitting himself right across from Corazon, tilting himself just enough to enter the boy's line of sight. "Ok…I didn't know that CPS chick would show up and if I did…you know I would have been there to do the talking…"

He pushed his brother out of his sight, turned around and faced the wall.

"Seriously, if he gets rid of it…you can just talk to that girl, right? Or I can talk to her?" he heard his brother say behind him. He noticed how enthusiastic he sounded during the latter half of the sentence. Corazon grew suspicious. Doffy actually sounded like it he meant it. He was almost unsure of himself…

"I know it means a lot to you," Doflamingo continued. "And if it helps, you did pay for it. He can't get rid of something that belongs to you. I'll stop him if he does."

Corazon looked down at his black bed sheets. He eye's lingered on the faded colors of his nails.

"You know I'm on your side, right?"

His brother did prove a point. He couldn't always trust his brother, but when he could he knew Doffy would be there, on his side. He knew his pet tarantula couldn't be tossed away if Doffy meant it.

"I'm going to be interviewed by her tomorrow."

He looked over his shoulder and stared at Doflamingo. The older boy smiled at him. He didn't respond. He watched his brother suddenly yank his box of cigarettes and toss them over to Corazon's side of the room. It landed on the bed, right next to him. The boy stared at his near empty box.

"I really want you to let her interview you," he heard his brother say.

He stared silently at his box.

"Just be completely honest with her," Doflamingo said.

He hesitantly reached out and plucked the box from the top of the bed. He shoved the box into his oversized, heavy black jacket. He was sure the box was taken. He _knew _the box was taken. Corazon felt a little burst of worry and shame, but he kept the box inside of his pocket. The burst inside of him began to dwindle, and then his brother began to talk some more.

"Tell her all the changes you made the last few months." He listened to his brother, and thought this wasn't a bad idea. He had wondered about the woman. She was going to speak with his brother no matter what. Doflamingo thought he could use this woman against their father. He couldn't possibly use this woman against his father.

Their stories wouldn't match up. He wouldn't lie to her. He'd be completely honest. Their family couldn't be separated if the words didn't match up. He couldn't lose his brother if their stories contradicted each other's.

He slowly nodded his head.

"See, that's not too hard," Doflamingo said.

He heard his brother begin to move around on the bed.

Corazon turned around. He saw his brother lying on the bed, looking through a magazine, smiling and feeling good about himself. Theirs eyes meat for a brief second. Corazon looked away, unsure of what to do with his self. His brother seemed pretty confident that things would work, even though they wouldn't. A foreboding feeling overcame him. He had thought about everything his brother had intended him to lie about on Thursday.

There was that word called "regression."

"Re-gresh-shun," he muttered to himself. The word came out incomplete, flat and hollow. He had _expressed_ the word without giving it any _expression._

Corazon let the English word hang in his head for a few seconds; sinking further into his mind until he could find a word he was more familiar with. To him it meant no longer talking. According to some people, it meant him freezing up against the rest of the world. According to a therapist, it meant him stopping while everything else moved around him. According to some of his past teachers, it meant he wasn't worth their time. According to children, it meant he was an idiot.

"…Regression?" it was his brother's voice.

Regretfully, Corazon nod his head.

"…You don't want me to bring that up, do you?" his brother asked.

Corazon's head sank between his shoulders. It was Doflamingo's strongest tool against their father. And yet it wasn't the main reason he didn't want his brother to talk about it. The boy lifted his head up and looked at his brother, his vision a little obscured due to his beanie beginning to sink past his forehead.

To his surprise his brother wasn't smiling. He stared back at him with a nice, serious expression. "There's no reason to feel ashamed," he said.

He continued to stare at his brother.

"I get it," Doflamingo replied. "I get it. You want to be the one who chooses whether to bring that up."

His brother…_sort of_ got it. He wasn't going to bring it up at all. There was no reason to bring it up. There was no reason for Robin to make those connections. People always made the connections. It was bad enough he had already attacked her. Why bring up regression, or the threat of regression?

He heard his brother sigh. Corazon could make out some of brother's selfish reasoning and motivation in how long it was. He felt his head sink again.

"Fine."

He raised his head up again.

Doffy was smiling at him. "It's s private matter," he said. "I'll give you the right to talk about it."

It was a private matter that he planned to not talk about at all. Nevertheless Corazon felt a little better regarding the situation. He had more control now. His brother had less. He could rest assure that someone that made him feel nervous and insecure wouldn't be brought up. He could trust Robin and he could _sort of_ trust Doffy.

The boy fixed his beanie back into its regular position, turned to his brother and placed a smile on his face.

"That almost looks natural," Doffy replied, chuckling just a bit.

Corazon covered his face.

Embarrassment aside, Corazon was sure he could get Robin to know that his brother might not be thinking the best of interest for everyone. If Robin was good to everyone then maybe she could talk to Doffy, make him see what a problem this was.

He clung tightly to one of his heart tassels.

* * *

><p>Please feel free to leave comments, compliments, or forms of critique in the form of a review or PM. Thank you all for your patience, and have a nice day.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

AN- Longest chapter yet. Hopefully everyone reading will enjoy it.

* * *

><p>-Event Horizon-<p>

Doflamingo flipped through the pages of a magazine that one of his brother's friends had left behind. He stared at gruesome images of huge men, glaring, sneering and snarling, adorned in black leather, makeup smeared across their faces, sweating, hot, muscles exposed, something, something, something…and fire. Always with the fire.

How could a genre associated with racism, Nazism, and anarchy be so goddamn homoerotic?

Doflamingo lowered his sunglasses, watching his little brother struggle over what he would wear for today. Shirt with skulls? What about hearts? Was there a way for Doflamingo to express his concern about making it to school on time without letting his brother know it all looked that same?

His blue eyes began to rise, locking on to the other dark images that scattered Corazon's side of the room. Feminine men decorated the wall. Sure, there were women and other things, but the men caught Doflamingo's attention. They were men who wore makeup, but unlike the men in the magazine that left Doflamingo almost out of breath, these men were delicate with their eyeliner and lipstick. They wore their clothes a size too big or small. Their hair hung promiscuously, covering a seductive stare that once again had Doflamingo questioning the genre that his brother had seemingly fallen in love with. These men made Doflamingo think about Crocodile. Crocodile wasn't feminine.

He closed the magazine, letting it rest next to him. He pulled his phone out and stared at the name that hadn't texted him for the remainder of the weekend. Crocodile. The name made the boy think too much. Crocodile didn't wear makeup. He wasn't like the men and women that his brother currently worshiped. Doflamingo knew how to worship real men.

"Dude, pick up a shirt," Doflamingo said, feeling his face begin to tingle from too much thinking. He usually stared at the posters during the silent nights. His subconscious was melting.

Corazon picked up a button up with pink heartagrams littered all over. He turned around and stared at his brother, nervously modeling himself with the shirt.

"Sure," Doflamingo said, tossing the magazine over to his brother's side of the room. He stood up and got closer to the door. As he watched his brother grab his backpack and beanie, he felt his phone go off. Doflamingo pulled the phone out and stared at the screen, noticing that Diamante had left him a text.

_Why m I getting u a iphone?_ He had asked.

Doflamingo frowned. It wasn't like the pot-headed, walking-stick of a man to ask such questions. It also wasn't the first time he had asked the senior to supply him a phone either. Doflamingo thought about the potential risks and sighed, looking down at his stolen, unlocked phone, remembering the trouble his friend had gone to get it, and texted back:

_It's 4 my brother_.

He could only imagine what Diamante's response would be. But he would have no problem explaining himself. Doflamingo needed his brother to be on his side. Corazon never had a phone of his own. Phones could be a little pricey. An iPhone wasn't the most complicated phone to work with, and older models were sturdy enough that one might last under the rough handling that came along with Corazon's clumsiness. And they could afford a cheap, simple plan for his brother. Nothing fancy, but he would be able to text everyone at anytime, without worry. Corazon wasn't too materialistic; apps, music, and good internet would come later when necessary.

His phone went off. Doflamingo expected it was Diamante. It was Crocodile.

_Please remember to bring the book back by Friday._ He wrote.

Doflamingo replied. _K. I'm almost done._

Doflamingo could feel the extra weight in his backpack. The precious text that held the knowledge of a final, last resort plan. Just in case things with his brother didn't work out. It wasn't that Doflamingo didn't trust Corazon; it was just in case his poor brother was pushed again.

"Your makeup's fine," Doflamingo muttered as he was suddenly approached by his brother, lipstick at hand.

"Yes, and the eyeliner."

His phone went off again. Diamante finally replied back.

_I'll try. I can get him whatevs, right? _

_No, simple, plz. _

He shoved his phone back into his pocket. He heard something fall from the sink, landing roughly on the floor and spilling some contents.

He had not expected his brother to freak out. He couldn't risk his brother getting into trouble, and freak-outs like that usually lead to it. Doflamingo had very little valuable things in his position. He would not lose his brother, his brother's dependency on him, his only relation left in the world. The stupid posters on the wall, the atrocious music, the money spent on expensive cruelty free beauty products, and the silence; it mattered way too much for Doflamingo to lose.

He had to be careful. He would get his brother a new toy. Corazon would let him know if he was having a difficult time. Doflamingo had no problem stepping in and explaining _his side_ of the story; the side that the world so desperately needed to hear.

He was in the living room now, his worn, pink chucks rubbing against the carpeting as he continued to wait for his little brother to gather the rest of his things. As Cora slipped and fell hard on the floor, Doflamingo couldn't help but notice they were running desperately late.

Today was the most important school day of their lives, and his brother was on the floor rubbing his rear end, groaning miserably.

Doflamingo sighed. "We're going to miss first period."

* * *

><p>Doflamingo was a product of the new age. Robin watched as he was handed a cup of coffee, was offered organic sugar, with or without almond or soymilk, and was politely sent into her temporary office. The boy had been suspended, and was now being treated like a guest from a foreign land.<p>

Robin sat quietly across the table, pretending not to find Doflamingo's incredibly relaxed demeanor annoying. She stared down at long sheet of paper, staring at the long list of questions she may have to ask the boy. She was a little suspicious of the boy's motives, if only based upon the events that had occurred on Thursday and on the day of his suspension.

No sooner had the doubt entered her mind did Robin correct herself. She was supposed to be on Doflamingo's side, always. If the boy had something to hide, she would find it. She would find it and send the boy on his way. There was no reason for her to treat the sixteen year old as someone to worth questioning over and over again, at least not without good reason. Even if Doflamingo had some ulterior motives, there had to be a good reason behind it.

"May I ask why you called Child Protective Services?"

Unlike his brother, Doflamingo was forced to adhere to all the regular school rules. He had his sunglasses placed in the pocket of his shirt. She could see right into his eyes, meaning she could make out the subtle changes that might occur should he try to lie.

The boy took a sip of his drink. She watched Doflamingo's eyes lid halfway.

"I called because I was worried."

"Worried about what?" she asked.

"Our wellbeing," Doflamingo answered placing his cup on the table a little too roughly. "My brother and I."

"What exactly were your concerns?" Robin asked, her voice beginning to drip with just a hint of sarcasm.

"I worry I'm not receiving the care I need in order to flourish and thrive, the way a healthy boy ought to," Doflamingo sarcastically replied back.

"And your brother?"

"I have some reason to believe that he is undergoing a personal struggle," the boy carefully responded. Doflamingo leaned back in his seat, sipping on his coffee. He closed his eyes. "We have undergone a lot of struggles for a long time now. We're getting older, and we're both getting tired. We need a change."

The boy sounded like he had just finished reading off a webpage on the Internet regarding the entire CPS process. But nobody was that stupid.

"Most kids his age are undergoing a personal struggle," Robin remarked. "Do you think you could be more specific?"

Doflamingo eyed her. She watched him place the cup down too hard again, this time managing to spill some of it's contents over on the table.

He frowned. "I can't tell you."

Robin raised a brow. "Can't…or won't?"

"I really can't tell you," he said, smiling nervously. Robin stared at Doflamingo, keeping a close watch at the change in the boy's facial features. "I promised I'd let him talk about his side…"

If should do it, Robin would have raised her brow even higher. "Did you really?"

"Yes," Doflamingo said. "He wants to explain his side. For personal reasons."

Robin looked down at the notes she had taken so far. She looked back up at Doflamingo, watching the boy down the rest of his beverage. She watched him get as comfortable as he could in his seat. She watched him pull his phone out right in front of her and begin texting.

Her eyes lay on his bright colored clothes, his bright colored backpack, and his dressy sunglasses that hung comfortably on his collar. His hair was styled. She stared at the shiny new phone in his hands. He was something of a liar. He was getting his fancy toys and clothes from somewhere.

But the comment he made about his brother also had the young woman wondering about the honest side.

She pressed her pen against the paper and scribbled a few words down.

"Will your brother tell me the reason you called?" Robin asked.

"As best as he can," Doflamingo answered coolly.

_As best as he can_, Robin silently thought. Was that an excuse to hide behind in case Rosinante couldn't provide the correct answers?

"Are you suggesting your brother will struggle with telling his side?"

Doflamingo chuckled. "Well, actually," the boy said, smiling at Robin, "yes. He most certainly will. Especially if you only know English."

Robin frowned.

"They told you he has issues with communication, right?" Doflamingo asked.

Robin looked over to the recorder she had placed at the edge of the table.

"I was informed he wrote at a sixth grade level," she said.

"Yes, he does," Doflamingo replied. "That puts his writing skills at above twenty percent of the current senior class." He stared at his empty cup. He looked up at Robin and pointed at the cup, frowning just a little. Robin shook her head and Doflamingo sighed. "…Well," he continued, "he can certainly write at a sixth grade level. But when it comes to talking in English...heck, even Spanish to an extent–"

"Your brother can't communicate?"

Doflamingo sat straight up in his seat. "Whoa, that's not what I said now, is it!" He glared at Robin. "I didn't say that now, did I? Don't put those words into my mouth. I told my brother I wouldn't let that happen."

She was taken aback. Robin looked down at her notes. "Forgive me. I misinterpreted your meaning."

"He can communicate. Just not very well," Doflamingo said, looking off into the corner of the room. She watched him stare out, his body relaxing, but his eyes filling up with something that moved her. "You…can sort of tell that there's something off when he tries to speak English." Doflamingo rubbed his nose. "He ah…err, didn't get a lot of practice in. He knows he doesn't sound like a loveable, normal human being when he tries to speak English. He chokes up, sometimes. Sometimes…"

"But he is capable of verbal communication?"

Doflamingo cupped his hands together. A small smile appeared on his face. It wasn't devious in appearance.

"Something like that, yes," he answered.

"Are you afraid that his current ability to verbally communicate is at risk of regression?" Robin then asked.

Doflamingo chuckled, lowering his head. "I'm not in a position to answer."

Robin sighed through her nose. "Of course not." She scribbled more words on the paper. She gave a quick glance at the clock and could already feel herself growing tired.

"I made a promise," she heard the boy say.

"Am I to assume that I'll have to bring your brother in for a personal interview?"

Doflamingo shrugged. "Next class I have is English. I can miss that if you'd like."

This was all a game to him. Somehow, though Robin had no way of proving it, somehow this boy was pushing for his brother to be interviewed. He had a plan. What was it? What did his brother possess that he needed in order to get whatever the hell he desired?

"Ms. Nico?"

Robin lifted her eyes from the messy notes. "Yes, Doflamingo?" she asked.

"I'm sorry about what happened on Thursday," the boy said. She couldn't help but feel that he was pandering now. Yes, that had to be it. He was spending as much time as he could in this office, wasting it up until she gave in and brought the brother in. Perhaps…perhaps he wanted to control the boy? Robin continued to analyze the ever-changing situation.

"I know. You briefly mentioned that before running off to see your brother," Robin said.

"Is that in the record?" The voice sounded nervous. Real nervous. Human nervousness.

"Hmm?"

"Is that something that's going to follow him, forever?" Doflamingo asked. Robin heard the voice cracking at the very end. This had to be real.

Robin noticed how the boy held himself. The posture had changed. His body was noticeably stiffer. Something was on Doflamingo's mind, and it wasn't his own self-preservation.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Him attacking you isn't going to result in him getting into anymore trouble, is it?"

Robin shook her head. "I made sure to accept full responsibility for that accident."

"So he won't get sent away to some white-roomed shelter, right?"

Doflamingo was showing his human side. The older brother was actually concerned for the well being of his younger brother. Robin could assume there was a little selfishness to it; it was still probably Doflamingo who had started this mess to begin with, but his questions let her know the boy was still just a boy. He was a boy that still loved his brother.

"Is that what you're afraid of?"

"I hear about it all the time," Doflamingo said, raising his head up and away from Robin. His arms were crossed. He was avoiding eye contact, and he had chosen not to directly answer her question. Robin internally smiled.

"Your brother would have had to hurt someone really bad in order for something like that to happen," Robin replied. She couldn't help but notice how soft her voice had gotten, as though she feared her words might harm the boy. She went ahead and continued. "Charges would have to be pressed. Your father would have received some calls. But he didn't. Your little brother will be fine." She paused, still a little shocked as how soft she had become. She stared at Doflamingo, who appeared it be taking in everything she had said.

"A good enough lawyer would assure that some therapy would be preferred over sending him away," Robin added. Doflamingo slowly nodded his head.

"I can't afford a lawyer," he muttered. "We can't always afford therapy."

"Then don't pressure your little brother," she replied.

"You really think I'd do that?"

She grabbed a few sheets of paper from the interview she had taken with Mr. Donquixote on Friday. She carefully reviewed the highlighted notes she had taken over the course of the interview. Remembering the recorded moments, she carefully placed the sheets in front of her, letting the boy catch just how much yellow had been highlighted.

"Your father is really proud of you," she muttered.

She watched the boy's face change from worry to disgust in less than a second. Without the sunglasses she could see just how much the boy detested his father. It was a full second of absolutely no hiding, and then Doflamingo smiled. Just like that, Doflamingo grabbed hold of the ugly, raw emotions and covered them up. It was impressive. It was very familiar.

"I thought we were talking about my brother," he said, pulling at his own fingers.

"You said there was nothing you could talk about," Robin said, smiling warmly at the boy. She made a personal note of the skin picking that Doflamingo had begun to partake in and continued, "At least not without your brother."

"Pull him in," Doflamingo said.

"I'd rather a do a private interview," Robin replied. "And you mentioned that you were worried that you were not receiving adequate care."

The private office was cold and lacked any sort of decoration for Doflamingo to distract himself with.

"I don't want to talk about him," Doflamingo said. He sat himself upright; hands cupped together, smile turned dry and eyes glued on Robin's person. "Let's talk about something else?"

Robin looked down at her highlighted notes.

"Not even the good things?" she asked. She wasn't going to ask if he was sure. Robin knew the boy was sure in his response. Most people didn't take the answers of children seriously. Robin knew better though, and a boy like Doflamingo was probably surer than any other kid she had spoke with. She was sure this very attempt would fail, but asked out of the hope that any kind of good news might get him to show more of the boy's true side.

"There are no good things," he said. His smile was beginning to shrink. His eyes were dripping with something that Robin almost wanted to call hatred. Obviously there was no way the boy hated his father. Frustrated, sure? But hated? Robin was sure she was closer to the truth.

"Alright then," Robin said, smiling. "You know; if something has happened–"

"He didn't do anything weird to me," Doflamingo quickly answered. He practically snapped it out, nearly jumping from the table in order to get his point across. The empty coffee cup fell on it's side and rolled across the table, falling and landing on the floor.

Robin kept her cool. Doflamingo stared at her, a sudden realization coming across his strained expression, filling up with a new worry that he might have let out more than what he had preferred to. She smiled at him. He did nothing but fall back into his seat.

"Remember," she said, "you can tell me anything."

"I've told you enough," the boy said.

"Is this interview over?"

"You should talk with my brother," the teen replied. He pulled his sunglasses from his pocket and stared at them. He rubbed at the corner of the colored shades, looking away from Robin. "He'll hopefully let you in…"

Robin was more than inclined to believe that the interview with the younger Donquixote would somehow be rigged in Doflamingo's favor. But just like Rosinante, Doflamingo had shown a side she had not expected. Through means that the poor, sixteen year old could not yet understand, she had exposed a side of himself that robin could use to determine what was actually going on.

Doflamingo loved his brother. Doflamingo was upset at his father. It wasn't much, but Robin could easily come up with a few potential answers to the question that was bothering her most.

Rosinante also loved his brother, enough to waste her time the in the first interview. Robin needed to see how he felt about his father. If the boy could communicate with her, be it choppy, robotic, or completely emotionless, then she would be all right.

Robin noticed the boy staring at the recorder. She said nothing, once again pretending to distract herself with her notes.

"Thank you Doflamingo," Robin said.

Doflamingo pulled his eyes away from the recorder, looking back at Robin with that disturbingly false smile of his. It bothered Robin that she could make some sense of it. It sickened her that she not only understood it, but also could produce such a smile herself.

"Not a problem," the boy replied. His voice almost made her shiver.

* * *

><p>Corazon had left his gang in order to meet up with his brother during first break. Right around the end of second period, he had received a note from the office asking him to miss his fourth class and meet with Ms. Robin Nico regarding his living situations.<p>

He walked up and stood silently in front of his brother's company. Corazon slowly raised his head up at the tall senior dressed in brightly colored attire, long hair swaying in the wind, a longer smirk slapped right across his decorated face. The young man's name was Diamante. The next one, called Pica by his brother, was the same age as the young boy. No one would ever guess Pica was a freshman, other than by his developing voice, because he was so damn huge and intimidating.

Diamante laughed. "Well if it isn't little Corazon," he said, looking around the crowded quad area, axiously spotting out students before bringing a makeshift pipe to his mouth, carefully covering it with his large, red overcoat. He lifted his head up and carefully sighed out a small, steady stream of smoke. Corazon looked down and saw the pipe was made out of an apple.

_How impressive_, he thought.

"Guess what I got you," Diamante said, laughing tiredly. He wiped his eyes as Pica rolled his. Corazon pondered over how long it took for the older teen to twiddle a hole through the apple. He wondered if Diamante would eat the apple later, once he was done smoking with it. Would the apple taste cooked?

"He doesn't seem to care," he heard Pica remark.

Corazon frowned. It wasn't that he didn't care about Diamante's potential gift, but that he knew something was already off about it. The boy took a step back, fidgeting a bit before cupping his hands together.

"You've gone and made him nervous," Diamante said, shaking his head. He stood up, his shadow hovering over Corazon's slim frame. "Is my favorite little mime feeling a little overwhelmed?"

The boy looked upwards at the senior, a little unsure as what to say. He didn't like Diamante too much. Trebol (who had graduated last year) was worse. Pica…not too bad actually. Pica was good at board and puzzle games. None of Doffy's friends were perfect, but sometimes Corazon couldn't help but wonder what his brother saw in these people.

"Dude, don't be rude," Pica said. "Doffy will be back with snacks…"

Diamante groaned. "I'm just joking," he said. He grinned widely at Corazon, lowering a hand down to him, as if to offer the boy a low five. "We're joking, right Cora? You know I love you, right? You're so awesome." Diamante looked over his shoulder and laughed at Pica. "We're all so awesome right now…"

Corazon shrugged. Diamante coughed, barely covering his long face with his lankier arms. He then reached into his coat, grabbing something from within the many sewn-in hidden pockets, pulled a phone out and shoved it into Corazon's face.

Surprised, the boy took a step back and slipped. Corazon landed back first on the hard, concrete floor. His head quickly followed. There was a very loud thud.

Diamante laughed.

Corazon blinked. He stared upwards into the sky, his eyesight clouded from pain and shaken brains. A shadow casted over him, waving something in its too thin arms, letting the adrenaline in Corazon's veins begging to wear thin. He continued to stare up, completely dumbfounded, blinking wildly as pain began to warm, burn and ice up and down his spin, his body beginning to shake in little spasms, until the color in the corner of his eyes began to dim, and the poor boy could see all the light begin to fade away.

"Dude, it's an iPhone 4s! Aren't I awesome?"

"Holy shit, he fell!"

"…Cora...don't be a dick. Get up and say thanks…"

"Fuck, we need to get and adult!"

And then Corazon realized he was inside of the nurse's room, again. He lay in the bed, sheets wrapped tightly around him, his backpack resting on top of a student's chair, again. His head ached badly, as though his brain was simply too big for the skull, and now there was a crack stretching all over it, and the crack hurt like hell, and there was nothing Corazon could do about it.

The boy dragged an arm from the sheets and began to rub the back of his head. He felt his eyes twinge in the pain from his rough contact.

_Stupid_. He was being stupid again. Corazon hissed, pulling his hand away from his head. He had to be delicate. He needed to be gentle or it would hurt like everything else.

He heard a small knock on the door. Corazon covered himself with the blankets he had been given.

"Corazon?" It was the nurse. "Are you awake yet?"

The boy brought his hand back to his head. Removing the sheets, he carefully got out of bed, his vision going blurring again, this time with some added light-headedness. He gently rubbed the back of his head, yearning for his beanie to cover the developing bump.

Bump and bruises. The past several days had not been particularly good to him.

"Are you awake?" This time it was that woman. It was Robin at the door.

The boy walked over to his backpack, moving it aside and discovering his black jacket. He grabbed it and put it back on.

"Si," he muttered. He reached into his backpack and brought out his dark beanie. He wondered if his makeup was still ok. The boy looked over his shoulder and could see the small mirror just above the sink. He could see his own blank expression, and he could see that the office employees managed not ruin his face.

"Did you say something?" It was Robin, again.

Corazon ran his hand through his hair, letting any gravel or dirt crumble off before trying his beanie.

He noticed how she did not respond to his answer. He adjusted the beanie accordingly, turning around and getting his entire reflection memorized before nodding his head slowly.

"Yes," he said, loudly this time. It didn't sound as good as the answer before.

The door opened. Corazon watched the nurse creep in her office, monitoring Corazon with some suspicion. Robin followed. He noticed that she kept herself elegantly poised as she looked around the small office, her blue eyes landing on his, and smiling in a completely welcoming matter.

Corazon looked away.

"You bumped your head," the nurse said. "You've got quite the bruise developing. We've called your father. He should be on his way."

Corazon felt his body go stiff. He took a rigid step back and let himself fall into the bed. He grabbed the sheets as his eyes began to nervously look around the room.

"Corazon?" he heard Robin call. Corazon said nothing as he stared out into the wall decorated with many pictures of the human body. His eyes wouldn't rest on just one. He felt his nails dig into the sheets. "Corazon, are you alright?"

He wasn't. His father had been called away from work twice in the past five days. The boy looked down at his thin legs. He watched as he began to shake them, letting out some of the pent up energy that seemed to be coming from nowhere. His chest felt tight.

"Corazon?" Robin's voice was somehow calmer. "Corazon, are you having an attack?"

The boy snapped his head up. He looked carefully into Robin's eyes. It was quite the endeavor, but he couldn't help but wonder what the question entailed.

"Uh-uhm," he tore away from her. He covered his face.

"He's just a little spooked," the nurse said.

"W-why?" Corazon asked.

"What is it?" he heard Robin ask.

He shook his head as he stared into the dark fabric. His face burned. "I-I d-don't w-w-"

Corazon shook his head again, earning a stabbing pain across the forehead. The past several days had not been good to him, to his brother, or to his family. He didn't want to go home. He didn't want to miss another day with his friends. He didn't want his father to miss more work. He didn't want to struggle trying to explain how upset he was.

"Corazon," Robin said. The boy lowered his arm, staring back at her through his shades. Once again his fingers grabbed hold of the bed, holding on as if his life depended on it. He kept his eyes on her mouth, watching in amazement at her small, warm smile. It reminded him of something familiar. It almost calmed him.

"Stand up, please," she asked. "Take a deep breath and stand up."

Corazon nod his shaking head. He unlatched his fingers from the bed sheets. He paused, letting his eyes lock on to the florescent light hanging above everyone. He stood up and noticed how weak his legs felt.

When he looked back at Robin he noticed she was standing up as well.

"Good job," she said. "Ok, Corazon, can you lift up your arms?"

It seemed simple enough. Corazon lifted his shaking arms. His jackets slipped down his thin arms, pulling the white sleeves of shirt and exposing the boy's pale skin. He hated this. Corazon hated what was going on as it became more familiar to him. He breathed heavily through his nose as Robin approached him.

"In the nose, out through the mouth," she said. She was so close to him, Corazon almost wanted to back away. He obeyed her orders, letting his exhales take place through the mouth. He felt embarrassed. He watched the nurse make a face at Robin before walking out of the office.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked him.

Corazon sighed. He stared up at his arms.

"I wont touch you," she said. "Not unless you absolutely need me to."

He did notice that his heart had begun to slow down with its intense beats.

"Ok," Robin said. "Ok…Corazon, you can sit back down. If you feel like you're becoming overwhelmed, let me or the nurse know."

The nurse was gone. Corazon nodded his head, falling back into the bed. He looked back down at the floor. He was feeling better. He was also feeling worse than before.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" he heard her ask.

Corazon shook his head. The answer was simple. Trying to get his point across, however, was proving rather difficult.

"I…d-don't…w-want-to-go," he muttered stoically with stutters.

"You don't want to leave school?"

He nod his head. "Yes," he answered.

"You hit your head," Robin said. "Your father needs you to take you to see someone."

The boy rapidly shook his head, ignoring the stinging pain that ran through it as he did.

"N-no!," he said. "I-c-can't-go," he said.

"You won't get into trouble," Robin said, smiling at him. She didn't seem to understand the real problem. "The nurse and counselor spoke with your father. You're not in trouble."

He shook his head, again. He looked over at his backpack.

"What is it?"

The boy stood up and grabbed his backpack. He pulled out one of his notebooks and opened it up and began searching for a pen or something, anything, to write with. The words were too hard to work with. He could feel his throat begin to shut tight, forbidding any further talking from taking place. That was all right. Corazon knew she would have never understood anyways.

He pulled out a mechanical pencil and began to scribble his thoughts on the paper.

"Corazon…"

He hurriedly wrote down the first few sentences. Writing in English was so much easier than trying to master it through words. Words never made much sense anyways.

"Rather than write it down…"

Robin kept on talking, and he kept on writing. Corazon could feel himself grow calmer by the second as he continued to let his mind pour itself on the sheets.

"…Oh, dear, you're really serious, aren't you?"

Corazon slowly began to nod his head. He almost forgot why he had been so upset in the first place, at least until he reviewed the letter he had crafted out. When he felt pretty good about it he went ahead and ripped the sheet from the nest of the notebook, fighting the flinch from the loud noise. The boy sat comfortably on the bed, examining his hard work, lifting his shades and making sure he had done his best before standing back up and handing Robin the sheet of paper.

"Corazon," Robin said, looking down at the letter, "do you think you could read this out loud to me?" She looked up and at the boy. He looked away, shaking his head.

"Oh…" Robin stared at the letter, carefully reading it for herself. Corazon stood nervously in front of her, waiting to see what she would do with it.

"This is…alright," she finally said. She lowered the letter and sighed. "You did a very good job, Cora."

The boy brought his hands together.

"But…the last part," she suddenly said. She looked back down at the letter. "Corazon, can you really not read this letter out loud to me?"

Corazon felt his sunglasses begin to slip off his face. He walked up to Robin and snatched the sheet of paper from her.

He looked down at the several sentences he had written. He almost regretted having written so much. It was impractical to have to say aloud so many words. And he could feel her staring at him, waiting for him to perform.

"D-de-dear," he muttered into the sheet. He felt his face burn.

He wished Doffy were here. His brother was pretty good about not watching. Maybe he'd tell her to look away.

Corazon's lip began to tremble as he stared through his dark shades, spotting her eyes on him.

He knew he wasn't very good at reading things aloud. Even when the words were right in front of him, he knew it wasn't right. He couldn't emote the words. He couldn't express. Corazon could put makeup on his face to appear expressive, but he couldn't put makeup on words and his woody, choppy performance.

"Corazon?"

He lowered the sheet. He inched his way back to her and slowly offered it back to her.

She picked the letter from him and stared solemnly at it. Corazon turned his attention back to the fluorescent lighting. He stuffed his hands into the jacket pockets, wondering if Doffy had been right about everything. Doffy was wrong about a lot of things, but maybe it would have been better if he had done all the talking. Corazon could write, but the letter seemed to be making Robin upset. Her smile that had made him feel so good was long gone. The letter had made things so much worse for him; he just knew it by the hurt look in her eyes.

"Your father is going to have to pick you up," he heard Robin say. Corazon felt crushed.

"As for everything else, please don't let your accident get in the way of how you feel," Robin added. Corazon was too busy holding his breath in. Now he really wished he had let his brother do all t he talking.

"And, Cora…"

He felt the tassels of his beanie tickle his neck as he lifted his heavy, aching head up and stared at the brightly lit ceiling.

* * *

><p><em>Dear Robin<em>

_I can not go home. I can not be-cause I do not want my father to get into more troble. _

_I want to stay here. I like it here. I am very clumsy. I just fall down some times. _

_I have bad grades. I can not miss more school. _

_Pleese help my brother. He is angry all the time. Some times I am. I am not angry at my father. Doffy is angry at him. I am not. Look at my brother and help him. _

_Thanks for your help. I feel good now. _

_I am ok. I am not re-gress-ing_.

Robin picked up a medicine calendar that Mrs. Jaguar had recently completed. Surrounding the young woman were the sounds of children running around, being loud whilst getting ready for bed. It was a sound that she had grown familiar to. Children could be incredibly overwhelming. Robin could recall a time when so much energy caused her nothing but misery. She remembered being so young and upset, not understanding how to deal with so much positivity. Now it was customary.

"Who's Lami?" she asked aloud. She looked down at the table and noticed another new calendar had been bought and worked on. Mrs. Jaguar had not yet written a name on it. "Saul, did you take in more kids?"

"Well," a gruff voice replied from another room, "that, my deary, is none of your business!"

"You're getting old, Saul."

"The missus and I had a change of heart." Robin peered up from the complicated looking calendar, spotting the giant man as he walked into the kitchen, looking tired, but somehow still full of energy. "It was a special case," the man said, pulling at his beard.

"I can see that," Robin said. She pointed at the calendar, her finger resting on a complex list of pills to be taken on a Friday. "What does she have?"

"A very rare disease," Saul said. He sat himself down at the table and produced a long sigh. "The head of the house gets it better than I do. Imagine asbestos and cancer having a love child."

"You're going to work yourself to death," she muttered.

Saul shrugged. "No one else is going to take these kids," he said. He grinned widely at the young woman. "Besides, what's an extra brother and sister? And Trissy could use a friend to spend her day with…"

Robin placed the calendar back on the table. She couldn't help but notice the unnamed calendar had a similar set of medicines to be taken on the same days. She sat herself across from the huge man, eyes filled with worry.

Upstairs children were running around. Robin could make out distinct sounds of feet hitting the flooring as children ran from bathroom to bedroom.

"So, other than my impending death," she heard Saul sarcastically remark, "what else did you want to talk about?"

Robin pulled herself closer to the table. "I wanted to borrow some of the younger children."

"Slave labor?" Saul asked. "Not sure how the wife would feel about that…then again, she's always loved you the most…"

"I'm serious," Robin said. Her fingers stretched across the table. "I have a boy I'm working with. The one I told you before?"

"Oh dear," Saul said. He leaned into the chair, earning a dull squeak as it bore his heavy weight. "What on earth did you do this time?"

"He has a problem communicating," Robin said. "He seems very insecure about it. I'm actually very worried. I think…I don't think he should be attending a regular school. I'm almost positive he needs to see a therapist, him and his brother…"

"And you want my kids, why?" Saul asked, rubbing his nose as he carefully listened to his foster daughter's words.

"I was hoping I could borrow someone to speak with him, on his level," Robin said. "I cannot possibly interview him if he chokes up. Even if he spoke Spanish, it wouldn't do me any good to have him go silent whenever he freaks out."

Saul frowned. He went back to playing with his beard. "How old is this kid again?" he asked.

"Fourteen."

"You really think sending a fourteen year old to a foster house that specializes in hospice care is a good idea?" Saul asked. He looked over into the living room, making sure no children were present. He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Let's be honest here…not too many teens will react positively to these kids. Heck, you said some pretty mean things when you first got here…"

"I know but…I think he will," Robin said, "in fact, I think seeing and talking with these kids might be a good idea for him, maybe even his brother."

"Jeez," Saul groaned. "What the heck is going…I don't want to know." He rested back into the chair, earning another long groan from the small piece of furniture. "Ask the missus, she's the one in charge here." The man sighed again. "The autistic one…correct?"

"Yes."

"Fourteen years old?"

"Yes."

"Right, definitely check with the missus," Saul said.

And then there was yelling. Both Robin and Saul looked up at the ceiling, detecting the sounds of a boy and girl yelling at each other. Saul shook his head, crossing his arms in disbelief.

"Kids," he muttered. A smile reappeared on his face. "You really got to just love the way they never get tired."

Robin smiled. "I'll talk to them for you."

"You're an angel," Saul said.

Robin got up from the table and quickly went through the living room. She went up the flight of stairs, following the sounds of the yelling and screaming, finding herself in the girl's side of the house.

She walked into the small room filled with bunk beds and monitors. "What's going on in here?"

She looked down and spotted Trissy with a girl she had never seen before. She was a little pale girl that seemed to be suffering from something like vitiligo, as she was covered in small white blotches. She also noticed the I.V attached to her arm, which meant she had to be living in this room. She was Lami. Next to the teary-eyed girls was Elio. She noticed the boy held a ripped stuffed animal in his hands.

"What do we have here?" she asked, walking into the small room. She looked over at the new girl and smiled.

"Robin," Trissy whined. She grabbed hold of her wig and carefully readjusted it, making sure to appear her best before her old foster sister. "Elio ripped Lami's stuffed Leopard. On purpose."

"Did he?" she asked, turning to Elio. "Did you mean to rip this?" The boy nervously shook his head.

Robin then turned to Lami. She went down to a squat and smiled kindly at the girl, raising her arm and gently wiped away at the tears falling from her face.

"Hello, dear," she whispered to the little girl. "My name is Robin." She removed her hand from the girl's face, surprised to see such a young child in the room designated for the terminally ill.

"H-hi," the girl choked. She watched as the round-faced girl produced a small smile. "You're really pretty," she said.

"Thank you," Robin said. "And you're…Lami, correct?"

"Yes," the girl answered, looking away. Robin caught the girl's bashful smile.

"I'm sorry," Robin said. "Elio can be a little rough with toys."

The boy jumped. "I didn't mean to!" he cried. "Trissy–"

"Now, now," Robin said in a stern voice. "Let's not play the blame game." She turned to Elio. "Will you apologize to your new sister? Let her know you're sorry."

The boy blushed. He walked over to the spotted girl, looking down in embarrassment while playing nervously with his hands.

"I didn't mean to," he muttered.

"Say your sorry," Robin warned.

The boy's face turned a deeper red. "I'm sorry," he said loudly, shoulder's raised high as he made eye contact with the Lami. "I didn't mean to play rough."

"That's ok," Lami said. She took the stuffed leopard in her hands. A tear ran down her face as small trembling fingers circled around the giant rip. "My daddy bought this for me…"

"And Mrs. Jaguar can sew it back together," Robin said. He placed a hand on the girl's tiny shoulder. "It'll be good as new."

Lami smiled. "Thanks," she chirped.

"Be sure to let her know once she get's back…" Robin paused.

"She's at the hospital," Trissy said. "Lami's big brother isn't feeling good so she took him to the hospital!"

"I see," she muttered. Robin stood back up and looked at the crowded room filled with calendars, charts, and little bottles carefully placed high on the shelves. "Well," she said, "Lami, you're brother will be fine. Mrs. Jaguar is a registered nurse…"

"I know," the girl said. It didn't sound too genuine. Robin said nothing, keeping her eyes on the clipboard hanging on the wall, Lami's name written on it.

Robin smiled quickly at the girl. It was a real shame that someone so young had to placed in this room. She wondered if her brother's room was placed right across on the opposite end of the house, on the boy's side where he awaited the same fate. It wasn't very fair.

She sighed, turning to Trissy and Lami. Trissy was wonderfully patient girl. Lami seemed nice as well. Girls tended to be gentle. She needed a gentle voice if she wanted to work with Rosinante. "Would you two like to do me a huge favor?" she asked. "Would you like to meet a friend of mine?"

Both girls' eyes widened, as though they somehow knew something was up. Robin watched as two small, curious smiled grew on their round, pale faces, answering her silently in that secret, childish way that made Robin feel so much more than simply hopeful.

* * *

><p>Thank you all for taking the time to read this. Please let me know what you think so far in the form of a PM or review!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

-Event Horizon-

It was Thursday. It was late at night, and Doffy was nowhere to be found.

Corazon watched with interest as his father placed the small five-gallon cage on a newly hammered-in shelf. He grabbed on to one of his tassels, his eyes on the small, furry figure that rested on top of the log, inside of the cage. His eyes then moved to his father, the man staring nervously at the hairy insect, not quite sure what to make of Corazon's choice in animal companionship.

Finally, his father spoke. "I know you'll take good care of this little…guy," his father remarked, head turning as he gave himself another good look at the tarantula resting inside. He rubbed his face, still staring curiously at the large spider, not aware that Corazon was memorizing it all. It had been a rough week, and now the boy finally had his precious tarantula back. It would rest right above him, on that special little shelf, high enough so that Doffy wouldn't have to worry about it, but still within an arms reach. His father was letting him keep the tarantula, even after everything that had happened. Corazon wished his brother were here to se this. How wonderful that Doffy had been wrong. They had worried over nothing.

"You'll have to keep your word that you'll quite smoking though," he heard his father add. Corazon dipped his head down, avoiding unnecessary confrontation. He heard his father take a step closer to him. He felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder. He didn't jump, but he didn't like the sudden touch either.

"I'm not going to pretend I didn't get into trouble when I was your age," Corazon heard his father say. The boy carefully lifted his head up, suddenly feeling less disappointed over getting caught. His father was smiling. It was reassuring. "Promise me you'll try to do better than me, alright?" His father, doing wrong? Corazon couldn't begin to imagine it.

His head snapped back down. He wasn't sure why he had expected his father to be angry. Upset, _maybe_. Corazon was not used to experiencing real anger though, at least not from his father. He supposed the heavy pain that he felt was still a result from his father missing another day at work just so he could take him to the hospital, _again_. It didn't matter how many times he was reminded that there were plenty of sick days, or that his father's boss understood the situation, or that it wasn't a big deal to begin with; it always bothered Corazon. His brother never missed this many days of school.

"We'll have to work up a way to get you and your brother off the nicotine," his father said. "Maybe find a new routine…you're just too young to be killing yourselves with that nasty habit." Corazon went back to staring up at his tarantula's new home. It was nice that he wouldn't have to hide it anymore. His pet could get some sunlight now. He wouldn't have to constantly check on her sponge for mildew.

He wondered what his brother would say in regards to the new change. Corazon flared his nose. Doflamingo had been avoiding going home right away the past week, purposely waiting until moments before curfew to show up. It was a shame. Corazon missed spending time with his brother, outside of the morning rituals.

"So, are you sure you want Ms. Nico to take you for a personal interview?"

Corazon heard his father's nervous words and gave a quick nod.

Robin had called earlier, asking if he and Doffy would be willing to come with her to a foster home, for a private visit. She mentioned getting some interviews done. Corazon hated the idea of leaving the familiar, but he agreed to it. Robin assured him that this would be a positive experience, and Corazon had every reason to believe her, especially considering how little he had seen his brother this week. Perhaps this new setting would help his brother see how nice they had it here. Corazon still feared the unknown, or whatever his brother had in store. Robin would change this. She promised she would.

"Please let me know right away if you change your mind, ok?"

Corazon lifted his head back up, staring at his father who, just at that moment, seemed older and more tired in his appearance. It upset him. The words. His father's expression. Without his makeup on Corazon couldn't hide his frown, not that it ever worked on his father. And it was a real frown too.

His father shook his head. "I don't mean it like that," he said. He tried gesturing a hand over at the bed. Corazon just stared, looking at the bed for something he couldn't see. His father chuckled to himself, shaking his head again and covering his eyes with his large hand. "Right, sometimes I forget how old you're getting." His other hand lifted itself from Corazon's shoulder, relieving the boy from that unfamiliar contact.

"I don't mean to say that you'll end up changing your mind," his father continued, "I just want you to be comfortable is all. I know it can be hard, especially with an older brother who doesn't nearly put in as much effort as he should, but still manages to pass his classes."

Corazon felt that sting in his chest again. As usual it never seemed to show, that pain that he felt, but then his father's hand rested itself against the boy's large beanie, causing some of it to slip forward, covering Corazon's head, and with his eyes covered he almost felt free enough to let his face burn with those strange sensations.

"You should know, I'm still very proud of you."

Corazon heard those frightening words could feel that urge to just run away and hide. His face was hot and he wanted to rub it clean of those damn words. Surely his father did not really mean that. Corazon fixed his beanie into place and looked around the small room. He looked up at his tarantula and felt the ends of his mouth tickle.

But then again, the room was rather empty, as though his father knew how much that sentence just might affect him. And it wasn't as though he had anything to worry about from what was said, so maybe his father might be a little serious.

Corazon got up on the bed, standing carefully and letting a hand lean against the wall as he stared into his tarantula's cage, feeling a small smile grow as he watched her stand comfortably on her small log. His father, proud of him?

Who knew?

* * *

><p>Doflamingo had predicted that his brother would fail, and Corazon had, but things somehow did not turn out exactly the way he had planned them out. He was sure Corazon's inability to explain his side of the story would lead to him being called back into the office, but instead all he got was a note explaining that his brother would be missing the rest of the school day.<p>

He had not heard from Robin in three days, only recently hearing about a call from her, asking if he would be willing to come along with his brother after school to a foster home, to speak with other foster children. Of course Doflamingo had much better things to do than sit around and watch a bunch of unloved children wallow and wait for adoption. But the call had worried him. Doflamingo suspected that she knew what was up, and had no choice but to make the final move.

It was Friday afternoon. The final bell had rung, and Doflamingo hurried out of his fashion class, grabbing his things and not taking the time to stuff them into his backpack, and hurried out through the back of the school, not stopping until he got to the park located just a few minutes away.

He waited next to the bus stop, sitting on top of a worn, red bench, swinging his legs nervously as Diamante appeared, then Pica. The three sat uncomfortably in front of the park, waiting longer and hardly saying a word to each other, Doflamingo only asking them over and over if they remembered to bring the necessary tools. After a few minutes he grabbed a hold of himself. A few minutes more and he felt his phone go off and pulled it out.

"My brother," he said aloud.

Diamante smirked. "So, he's using it?" the older boy asked, grabbing one of his messy long locks and twisting in between his fingers.

"Even he likes some privacy," Doflamingo said. He began to text, letting his brother know that he wouldn't be able to meet with Robin later. He tried to sound as polite as the phone would allow, while also sounding like his usual, sort of rude self, just in case that woman attempted to pry further into his plans. He would not let anyone get in his way. He couldn't afford to get caught, not with such a risky plan.

Doflamingo hit send. "Now he can text all the girls…"

"Like he'd ever attract one," Diamante muttered. "No girl–"

"Dude, don't be a dick," Pica said, nudging the older boy and pushing Diamante off of the bench.

"I see him hang with that black punker in my sixth period," Doflamingo defensively mentioned. He wasn't going to pretend Rosinante was normal, but he sure as hell wasn't going to pretend his brother didn't have feelings. "She taught him how to knit beanies…"

"Black girls don't date skinny, emo boys," Diamante muttered, getting himself up from the moist grass and back up to the bench. A bus pulled over in front of them, coming to a stop and opening the door. All three boys stared at the number glowing on top, with Doflamingo smiling and eagerly awaiting for their fourth companion to show. Finally, a boy with a very peculiar, almost comical bowl cut made his way to the front, his school uniform covered in messy remains from his last meal.

"Yo, Vergo!" Diamante waved. The younger teen took his final step off the bus, his backpack slung lazily over his shoulder as he placed his dark sunglasses back on his face. He gave a sniff as he eyed all three boys, a relatively calm smile growing on his face.

"How long has it been?" Vergo muttered.

"Too long," Doflamingo replied, standing up from the bench, reaching out and taking Vergo's hand in his own.

"Who would have thought that a murder attempt would bring us all back together," Vergo remarked, turning his head and giving Pica a quick nod. Diamante chuckled. The bus drove off, leaving the four to reacquaint themselves.

"You promised me you'd get expelled," Doflamingo whined. The four of them made their way deeper into the park. Vergo sighed. Doflamingo shook his head. "No excuses…things aren't the same with you going to a fucking private school. _Christ, Vergo_. A Christian private school!"

"You know I can't just return to a school I already got kicked out of, Doffy," Vergo said, pouting at his old friend. The blond sighed. "Besides, the girls are cute," he proclaimed, his nervous smile and shrug not nearly enough to sway the boy.

"The rumors are true then?" Pica asked.

"I hear they're less likely to be fat," Diamante added, holding on to his backpack with one hand while the other reached deep inside for some less than legal treats.

"Yes, but they still find time to be entitled as hell," Vergo replied. The four relaxed underneath a worn out gondola, Doflamingo remaining at a standing position while the other three sat. He could feel himself growing all the more anxious as all three dug through their belongings, each pulling out a specific tool necessary to unleash his plans.

Doflamingo had read and reread the last few chapters of the book he had borrowed from the universities' library. Even with his brother no longer being a distraction to Homing for the rest of the afternoon, Doflamingo was incredibly nervous. So much could go wrong. Even with the gloves, flashlights, the instructions listed out, and his friends offering his weapons of choice, Doflamingo couldn't help but worry over the slight chance that failure might occur.

Or worse, he might get caught.

"How much longer till Trebol gets over here?" Vergo asked, munching on a bag of chips and spilling flakes all over his messy uniform.

"He's got Fridays classes, the idiot," Diamante groaned, bringing a small pipe to his mouth. Doflamingo and Pica covered their face when the harsh smell entered the air, wafting around while Vergo calming continued to eat.

"Does that man of yours know what you're up to?" Pica commented.

Doflamingo chuckled. He looked over to the free spot between Vergo and Diamante, wishing he could bring himself to sit down and relax. "He hasn't a clue," Doflamingo replied. "He didn't react well to me messing up the last time…I can't bear the idea of him scolding for me attempting a second go."

"I don't get it," Diamante muttered, shaking his head and offering Vergo the pipe. The boy took it, dropping his bag of chips as he brought it to his mouth. Diamante sighed. "Monet was so hot. And now you're getting pushed around by a dude? Makes no fucking sense."

Doflamingo shrugged. He didn't have the patience to explain his side, and frankly didn't see a reason why he had to. Monet was sweet, and while he missed her company, there were just some things a little girl couldn't provide than adults could. Girls were better off as friends.

He pulled his phone out from his jacket and stared at the time. "Trebol wasn't bringing anything, was he?" Doflamingo asked, staring at the hour and feeling his heartbeat rush again.

"He agreed to distract your brother, if necessary," Pica replied.

"Vergo and I have the tools," Diamante added.

Doflamingo stowed the phone back into his pocket. "And my brother if off to get babysat by that woman."

"Are you nervous?" Vergo asked. Doflamingo snatched the pipe from Vergo, taking a small hit as he envisioned the next several hours in his head. It might appear just a little suspicious that a car accident would occur the day Corazon was away. But the car _was _old. And Doflamingo would have an alibi. Nobody could put the blame anywhere but on Homing's negligence.

"No," Doflamingo lied. He took another hit before handing it back to Diamante. "We should get started. Trebol can play catch up later."

"So, then," Vergo started, "what's gonna be our alibi?"

"I was thinking Diamante's place," Pica replied. "It's not too far from Doffy's place, so you two can hurry up there when you're done tweaking the car. It'll be an easy alibi. We can just say we were playing PlayStation and checking out his sister."

Doflamingo nod his head. It was simple. He liked it. Vergo also gave a nod, spilling more chip crumbs all over his uniform. Diamante gave Pica the finger. "Everyone brought their tools, right?" Doflamingo asked, staring intensely at his three comrades. All three gave a nod. He smiled.

"You think getting your hands on your own stuff will be problematic?" Vergo asked.

"I can't have clean prints all over my own stuff…it'll look too suspicious," the blond answered back.

"You really think they'll check?" Pica added. He shrugged. "It's a pretty old car…and accidents do happen. Plus you're gonna be doing an assortment of things."

"I can't have this lead up to me," Doflamingo said.

Diamante shook his head, bringing a hand to cover the growing smile on his face. "Who suspects a sixteen year old of sabotage?" he asked.

Doflamingo looked down at his worn shoes, recalling up all those stupid investigation shows. It was all he had to go by. He rubbed the sole into the grass, tearing apart the blades of grass down to the soil as he privately admitted that his worry was based on fiction. And yet, Doflamingo couldn't help but feel that he'd make a decent suspect. He absolutely despised Homing, so much so that all events leading up to this attempt in ending his life felt just so natural, almost expected. But, _really_, people would look at their relationship as just a phase. Who'd really think he was capable of killing his own flesh and blood?

He bit his lip. "Let's review the plan, shall we?"

Homing had failed as a father. He had failed; an in doing so had also failed as a husband, provider and protector. His mother had died and the bills piled up, leaving Doflamingo to take up the role as sole protector of his family, which by then had dwindled down to just his little brother. Cora. His poor baby brother, who had been so traumatized by those many changes, had chosen to remain silent and be preyed and picked on. Where was Homing? His brother needed help, _he_ needed help and support, but there was never anybody to do such. He couldn't always be there to watch over Rosinante, and Doflamingo very well couldn't look after himself.

But that became his job, whether he liked it or not. And at the age of eight. Homing knew nothing of the real world. Doflamingo had adapted into it. He grew in it. Like a plant struggling to survive, he twisted, struggled, and clung to it.

Money was always a problem. Even with the monthly aide, living was not simple. And Doflamingo was not too found of receiving handouts. Sure, it made life easier; payment plans and government funding gave his brother his voice back, but Doflamingo would have preferred his brother not have lost it in the first place.

The sixteen year old had determined that life would be better without his father. Corazon could not flourish on his own, not yet at least, so the odds of the two of them becoming separated were incredibly slim. Even if they tried, he was more than sure that Corazon would cling to on to him, and they couldn't possibly tear such a helpless being away from his older brother, could they? Not when they knew his history. They wouldn't dare take away Rosi's ability to speak again.

Life would be better without Homing. The man didn't have much, but he did have a lifesavings. And there was money to be made in his brother becoming an orphan, not to mention the benefits finally being free from that little hellhole. In two years he would be an adult, and he'd be able to do whatever he pleased. He could adopt his little brother, and they'd be able to go wherever they needed. They'd struggle. But Doflamingo knew they would survive, just as they had the past eight years. And they'd soon thrive. Doflamingo just knew it. Rosi had the potential.

Life would be so much better with just the two of them.

Between Vergo and Diamante, Doflamingo would have the means to tamper with Homing's vehicle. Rather than just commit to messing with the brakes, Doflamingo figured it would be wise to just tamper with a multitude of different parts of the car. It would be time consuming. Homing would be home for short period while he got ready for his second job. Doflamingo couldn't screw this up. He'd do just enough damage to each part that it wouldn't look like a murder, just a result of neglect. If anyone did suspect him of patricide, Doflamingo could rest assure that none of his fingerprints would be on anything from the house. The tools would back to his friends on the same day, at Diamante's house. The gloves would be destroyed. Crocodile would get his book back and return it to the library today. Doflamingo would spend the rest of his evening with his friends, making sure his face was seen by Diamante's parents, and would return home once his brother called for him.

Corazon would be away. There would be no temporary rendezvous between his father and brother. Doflamingo didn't need to worry about his friends distracting his brother away from home. Vergo could play look out. Everyone else could go straight to Diamante's and start the story up.

He had to be right. Absolutely right. He had to do this alone.

"Are you alright, Doffy?" he heard Vergo ask him. Doflamingo was staring at the screen of his phone, looking at the two new messages he had received. One from his brother, the other from Crocodile. "Doffy?" he heard Vergo ask again, this time giving his shoulder a quick shake.

The boy jumped a bit from his seat. "Yeah," he muttered. He looked over at his friends, spotting a nervous look on all of their faces. Doflamingo feigned a grin, hiding his developing fear behind his sunglasses as he pointed down at his phone. "My brother…give me a second," he said.

Corazon was on his way to the foster home. He could safely assume this would buy him a good two hours. A thorough interview took time. Guilt tripping took time.

Doflamingo looked up at Diamante and Pica. "You two go and hang out...I'll let you know when Vergo and I are done, kay?" The two boys nod their head, getting up from the bench. Pica grabbed his backpack and slung it over his massive shoulder, while Diamante struggled to stand up straight. "Be sure to let Trebol know to meet you guys over there!"

"Mhmm," Diamante said, waving his hand sluggishly at Doflamingo. "Will do."

Doflamingo and Vergo watched the boys head out, leaving them alone in the park. Doflamingo was the first to look over his shoulder; at the pile of equipment he was to use in order to accomplish his goal. All sorts of pieces. Some hand tools. Some plain household items. Doflamingo swallowed, opened his backpack and began stuffing them all in his backpack.

"You're absolutely sure about this?" he heard Vergo say.

"Of course," Doflamingo replied.

"Your arm is shaking," Vergo pointed out. Doflamingo exhaled heavily through his nose, feeling annoyed at Vergo's comments. He knew what he was doing!

"Well, of course it's gonna shake," Doflamingo sarcastically replied. He licked his lips. He could feel Vergo staring hard at him behind the dark frames. "These things take a lot of concentration…"

He was nervous because he didn't want to get caught. He was afraid of what might happen if he did. Worst of all, he was terrified of what might happen if he failed, and Homing was left alive and well. It burned his neck. He skin with tight even though he wasn't frowning. His stomach went in a knot and his palms ached from being forced into a tight fist. He couldn't let Homing live! That's why he was so nervous.

His phone went off again. Another text.

"Seriously, Doffy, we can always try for later," Vergo said. Doflamingo threw his backpack over his shoulder, not looking at his friend, but instead staring down at his phone. It was easier to ignore a friend's warning when there were things to distract oneself with. Boyfriends in particular made for a nice distraction, and with Crocodile having recently sent a message, Doflamingo found his mind rewiring a few parts to his plan. There had been no time for Crocodile today, other than handing him the library book, but it appeared that a new opportunity had arisen. A smile grew on his face.

He raised his head up at Vergo. "Want a ride?" he asked.

"Hmmm?"

"Crocodile finished tutoring early," Doflamingo replied. "If we're fast we can buy ourselves an extra twenty minutes."

* * *

><p>Crocodile got out of his car, which he had parked on the school campus, and walked over past the front gate of the school so that he could have a few minutes to fix his need for some nicotine. The young man looked around the immediate areas, wondering if he might spot the boy anytime soon. Doflamingo had said he was on his way, to give him a few minutes to get his things.<p>

He looked over his shoulder, back on the school's campus, making sure no counselors or disciplinary staff members were around to spot him having his smoke. From a distance he spotted something. A thin, pale little form dressed in mostly dark attire, an oversized beanie, following a young woman into the parking lot. He had to squint his eyes in order to make out the feminine decorations on the boy's face. It was Doflamingo's little brother. He watched the boy and woman disappear into the parking lot, cars and student obstructing his view.

Crocodile turned around and leaned on the fence, brining his gold e-cigarette to his lips. He inhaled, wondering if he might have seen something strange about to occur. He couldn't help but have his mind immediately focus on his own wrongdoing. He flared his nostrils, quickly exhaling warm vapors as he pushed the thought away. No, no way in hell was the world that small. And who on earth would take advantage of a special needs kid?

He took another deep inhale before turning off the device and heading back to the car. As he opened the driver's side of the car door, he heard rapid step approaching him, quickly followed by heaving breathing. He turned around and spotted Doflamingo stopping just a few feet away from him, and to his dismay, another boy with a bowl cut.

Doflamingo huffed, bringing a hand to his chest as he approached Crocodile, his face red from what appeared to have been quite the run. The boy behind him remained, staring at Crocodile through his dark lenses. Crocodile had been careful not to be seen by the boy's friends or family members. This was new, and incredibly unwelcomed. He crossed his arms as Doflamingo stood in front of him, a stupid smile spreading across his heaving face. Crocodile wasn't pleased.

"I need you to take me and Vergo home," Doflamingo said, smiling hopefully at his older lover. The young man frowned, his eyes overlooking the blond boy and over to the one standing a few feet away. He noticed right away that Vergo seemed to be wearing a school uniform. He was a stranger. Crocodile's eyes darted back down to Doflamingo.

"Why?" he asked. He didn't bother trying to hide his frustration. Doflamingo had been the one to complain about them getting caught. Now this Vergo fellow was here, watching them talk so casually.

"I left your book at home, and Vergo and I really need to catch up," the boy answered, pouting just a bit. Crocodile held in his breath when he heard the first part of the sentence, exhaling when he had heard the second half. Now he was annoyed. The boy had made it so clear earlier that they didn't have time to hang out. Crocodile had made time, and now he wanted to spend it with his friends?

"I swear I'll make it up to you later," he heard Doflamingo very quickly add. Crocodile could feel his arms tighten. The boy knew how out of the way and offensive this was? Good, but not all that good enough.

He sighed. "Fine," he answered dryly. He looked over Doflamingo's frail shoulders and stared coldly at the boy standing awkwardly with his filthy school uniform. "Get in the car," he said aloud. In the corner of his eyes he could make out Doflamingo flinching, detecting his disapproval over this situation. Good. Very good. But without a real consequence it still wasn't good enough. Crocodile couldn't stand how little control he had over the boy. And Doflamingo knew he was in a rather powerful position, being so young and Crocodile being so…_over eighteen_.

He made sure to slam the car door on his way in, earning another reaction from both boys. He wasn't worried about onlookers. Everyone was so busy to leave the school; they would pay no mind to two young boys, one in a private school uniform, entering the car with him. They had paid no mind earlier when Doflamingo's little brother had left with a woman.

Crocodile turned on the ignition while he heard Doflamingo thank him over and over again, too polite to be real while trying to reach out and touch his face. Crocodile pulled away, not willing to be so daring while on campus. Plus he was still annoyed, and he wanted both boys to see it. He thought about the decorated boy and the woman as he pulled out of the space and drove out of the lot. Doflamingo was rather attentive when it came to his brother; he doubted the boy was unaware of the situation. He wondered if she might have been some kind of therapist. Those autistic kinds rely on those for all sorts of things, right?

"Thanks for the ride," he heard Vergo quietly say in the back seat. Crocodile tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wished he could have another smoke. He stared out into the street, his back feeling stiff as Doflamingo turned and looked up at him, growing concerned over the stretching silence.

"Mhmm," Crocodile finally replied. Both boys were quiet.

The three let the music fill the car as the only form of entertainment for several minutes, Doflamingo occasionally reaching out and placing his hands on the man's leg, hoping to stir something positive from Crocodile. The young man didn't see any reason to react to it; they clearly weren't going to have sex today. Tomorrow either, seeing how their inability to communicate to one another would surely stir and simmer in each other's minds for the next day or so.

Finally, Doflamingo spoke. "How were your classes?" he asked.

Crocodile kept his eyes on the road. "Fine." He brought a hand to his face, letting the nail of his index finger get close between his lips as he let the memory of Doflamingo's brother play once more in his mind. "…how about you?" he asked. "How are you…and your brother?"

He noticed Vergo peeking his head up. Crocodile made sure not to look up and the rear view mirror too often. Doflamingo smiled in his seat. His body eased back. Crocodile kept his eyes on the road. "We're doing fine," Doflamingo answered cheerfully.

"I saw him leaving campus with a woman," Crocodile added. He could hear Doflamingo move in his seat. He wondered if the boy was still smiling at him. Probably not.

"The CPS chick?" he heard Vergo say from behind. To Doflamingo, but that didn't matter one bit now. Crocodile's eyes grew, and his brow rose as he snapped his head over to Doflamingo.

"Child Protective Services?" Crocodile practically hissed at the boy. "You're still trying to get them to go after your father?"

Doflamingo crossed his arms. He watched a small, cocky smile grow before he had to return his attention on the road. He heard Doflamingo reply. "My brother is spending time over at a foster house for his own personal reasons…it has nothing to do with me."

"Your brother is in foster care?" Crocodile asked.

"What, no!" Doflamingo loudly replied. "No, that's not what I mean…look, it's a really long story…"

"Cora is just visiting," Vergo said, grabbing the back of Doflamingo's seat and pulling himself up to the front. "Doffy said she's trying to prove a point! Nothing more!"

Crocodile's eye twitched. Doflamingo wasn't supposed to be continuing this stupid charade. He had made it clear several days ago how much he had regretted getting his brother into trouble. Crocodile had hoped Doflamingo had seen the light and would keep his hands out such risky business. And the last thing Crocodile needed was CPS snooping around. He liked the boy, but not enough for him to end up getting into serious trouble. Why didn't Doflamingo see any of this?

"Goddamnit," Crocodile groaned. A hand let go of the steering wheel. He could feel his heart nervously race as he made a sharp turn. "I told you not to continue this," he said. His hand was still raised, shaking a bit, in need of making harsh contact with something. Crocodile refrained. He held in his breath as he forced it back on the wheel. He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly before opening them back up. He stared and saw that he had sped up quite a bit.

"I'm not going to get you into trouble," he heard Doflamingo nervously reply. It was practically leaning towards a whine.

Crocodile's nails dug into the wheel. He stared out, not replying as he brought his teeth together, pressing tightly against the inner part of his lip.

There was some fidgeting taking place in the back seat. Crocodile felt his shoulder sink with some embarrassment. He wasn't the only one, and all three remained silent once again, this time waiting until they were across the street from Doflamingo's apartment building. That Vergo boy was quick to make his exit, taking little time to thank Crocodile for the ride as he practically burst out of the car. Doflamingo remained, pulling out his phone and checking the screen for a few seconds, even going as far as to reply to a text, while Crocodile sat uncomfortably in his seat.

The two stared out of the front window. Doflamingo pursed his lips together, stuffing his phone away as he turned and looked over at Crocodile, appearing neither upset nor angry for the earlier outburst.

"You're not going to get into trouble," Doflamingo said. "You're paranoid. We're both paranoid…"

"You're such a child," Crocodile remarked. He looked through his rear view and could spot Doflamingo's friend running across the street. He lowered his gaze back down. "You should leave," he muttered.

"None of my friends care," he heard Doflamingo say. A chuckle. "They think I'm crazy, trading a fourteen year old for you, but for the most part…they're ok with it." The boy undid his seat belt and leaned over to grab his backpack. "Vergo would never tell. He knows I'm very happy."

"Tell me you're finished with whatever you had planned," Crocodile said.

Doflamingo pulled the zipper across, keeping the large satchel close to him. "I promise," the boy hummed, not looing into Crocodile's direction. The older of the two held on tight to the wheel, staring over at the apartment complex. That friend of Doflamingo's kept looking over. He appeared nervous.

"Your friend's waiting," Crocodile remarked.

"One second," Doflamingo said. Crocodile let go of the wheel, relaxing into his seat and digging through his jacket for a quick smoke. He listened to the boy rummaging through his backpack and could make out sounds of metal clinging against metal. He raised his brow and tried to look over without turning his head, barely catching the glimpse of something inside before Doflamingo pulled a book from the contents. He handed it to Crocodile. He took it and stared at the cover.

"I thought you said you left it at home," Crocodile muttered, recognizing the library book he had let Doflamingo borrow.

The boy lightly laughed, zipping up his backpack. "I suddenly remembered that I had brought it, just in case."

It was clear the boy was lying. Crocodile stared at the book for a few seconds more, feeling a hand rest on his leg as he calmly tried to piece what little information he had. Doflamingo's little brother was out of the house. Doflamingo had lied to him about the book he had borrowed, just to get home early. But the boy hated home. And since when did that birdbrain blond ever care about the mechanics of cars?

Crocodile tossed the book over his shoulder, letting it bounce off the back seats. "Drop off your things," he said. "I'll take you and your friend to my place." He stared at the blond, raising his hand and letting a finger curl under Doflamingo's chin. "We can get something to eat on the way," he added.

Doflamingo's hand lifted off from him. The boy pulled himself away. "We can't…he's got a strict schedule," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow?"

It was a fitting excuse. Crocodile couldn't shake off the feeling that something unusual was up. He glanced up at the rear view. Vergo was looking worried, and Doflamingo was opening the car door.

There was some kind of scheme going on. Crocodile couldn't prove it, but he had more than just an inkling something was up, and he didn't like it. As sick as it sounded in his head, Crocodile was finding himself missing and longing for the child that just wanted some attention.

"…What's in the backpack?" Crocodile asked. He turned his head and stared at the boy creeping his way out of the car. The boy turned his head, looking rather surprised. His mouth opened, exposing a worried look Crocodile was not used to seeing. His missed when the only thing Doflamingo needed was some positive reaffirmation.

He watched as the boy looked over, across the street and towards his friend. For a brief second Crocodile was sure he could detect some shaking as lips were pushed out, a tongue licking them nervously before pulling them back in. Doflamingo turned back, staring inside of the car, at Crocodile.

"We'll talk later, ok?"

Doflamingo hadn't sounded so desperate in a long time, and it was only because of the annunciation that Crocodile let the boy go without saying another word. But that didn't change the growing panic. It didn't ease him one bit to know that he had been right, that Doflamingo was far from finishing those stupid plans of his. What could the boy possibly hope to achieve in getting involved with CPS? Guilt and shaming his father alone should have been more than enough.

He remained parked across the street, even after Doflamingo and Vergo jumped the fence, instead of taking the front entrance to the apartment complex. Crocodile wondered what sort of scandal he had helped Doflamingo in. He wondered if Doflamingo's little brother knew something horrible was about to happen, or that woman that Doffy had spent the past several days complaining about in his texts.

It pissed him off to no end. Crocodile was in no position to just dump or drop all contact with the boy, especially now that he knew something was up.

Crocodile brought a cool, golden e-cigarette into his mouth. He started the engine, knowing that waiting for Doflamingo and his friend to reappear wouldn't make any difference. The boys would probably sneak out another way. He inhaled warm vapors. Maybe he wasn't controlling enough? He exhaled. The boy was in desperate need of discipline. He drove off, pushing away his frustration, the fact that he had gone out of his way to help Doflamingo so many times before, the pent up need for sexual release, and sucked in more flavored nicotine; letting his mind melt and calm before deciding that he would let it all pass, save the anger for later, when Doflamingo crossed him again. After all, the boy was only sixteen. He deserved one more chance. His father_ had_ failed miserably in training him, but past relationships had shown Crocodile that a little hands-on treatment could fix any conflict. Doflamingo obviously had never faced physical trauma from an authoritative figure before.

Crocodile exhaled, calmly watching a long trail of tasty vapors leave his lips and float around the ceiling of his car before disappearing. His eyes became lidded as he felt the nicotine soothe his anxiety, his thoughts assuring him that whatever Doflamingo was up to would quickly diminish with the force of his hand.

The boy was sixteen, which meant he could still be fixed.

* * *

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